Through Another's Eyes
by adellle
Summary: Snape finally meets someone who loves him for his Snapishness. But she's a chaos witch with enemies she would never suspect. One begins to stalk them. Will their bond survive the repeated attacks? Can Snape help them both survive the onslaught?
1. Chapter 1

_Hi. I thought this might be a more dynamic lead-in to the book. Maybe a little more insightful. See what you think. If you hate it, just refer to the first take. Thanks for reading and have a Snapish day!_

BOOK ONE: CHAPTER 1

Severus Snape found himself unpleasantly awake that humid, August night.

A light rain was falling outside his window. Everything was silent and peaceful as could be – so where the hell was this feeling of agitation coming from?

True, sleep never came easily, but there was something else.

Could it be the dread that Minerva was going to strap him with her ridiculous niece?

Just what he needed, he thought bitterly. An assistant.' A charity case. Nobody knew what to do with her, so why not give her to him? Let her "assist" him. In other words, disrupt his research, botch his potions and waste his time. But why not? After all, potions weren't important to anyone. What was the harm?

He sighed angrily. He never got any respect.

But why lie awake? After all, he'd just bury her in paperwork and ignore her the entire time, as he had other dunderhead interns with whom Albus had burdened him.

So…what was this odd unease?

Throwing back the black sheets and quilts, he climbed out of the bed and lit a couple of candles. In the dimness he caught himself in the mirror and saw the harsh, dark lines that were etching themselves on his face. It was getting harder to look every day.

Years, years and more years. The school's cycle seemed to press on more relentlessly each year. At times he felt as if he were observing it from a distance. The first weeks of school and all of their ruckus, Halloween, Christmas, Spring, Summer. So mechanical by now, he sometimes felt he was a spectator, and didn't really have to live any of it. Just let it flow on its own momentum.

Throwing on his cape, he didn't know exactly where he was heading, but knew he had to leave his chambers. Something was wrong. Something was different.

It was well past midnight. Hurrying through the twisting labyrinth of corridors and passageways, he didn't know quite what he was looking for - but continued in the direction of the main hall. Gradually, he began to hear a stir of voices. Muffled, at first. Then more pronounced. Then the screaming began.

After he'd rushed downstairs into the main hall, he saw that the main doors were ajar. Wind and rain was sweeping inside, until finally, Hagrid shut them with a boom.

Albus, Minerva and Hagrid were together in a huddle. Minerva and Albus had hold of a young woman's arms, one on each side

"I can't stay here," the woman screamed. "Let me go!"

Her dark hair was a ringing wet mess. Her eyes, which were an unsettling sort of blue, were wild with panic and agitation.

"Let go of me," she cried, her voice breaking. From above, a lamp began to swing. Snape looked up and his eyes widened in alarm. A nearby vase tumbled from its stand and shattered with a sickening crash. Two windows to the rear suddenly cracked and shattered.

"I have to go back. I want to be with her. I hate you, Aunt Minerva. Damn you. Let me go back. I have to go…"

Minerva's face was strained to the limit. Snape had never seen her look so concerned or so frightened. Quickly, he hurried to her side.

The young woman's face was a disaster - marred by tears, exhaustion, running mascara, red welt on her forehead, dampness and raw panic. The veins in her neck stood out like flying buttresses on a cathedral. Oddly, she probably could pass for pretty, somehow; but certainly not now.

"Amelia, this is where you should be," Minerva said gently, her voice trembling with fatigue. "You're safest here. No one's going to hurt you. I promise. We care about you."

"No. I can't stay. I need to be back with her. That's where I belong. She needs me. This place is evil. My father said it was evil."

Albus was raking a hand through his beard, trying to think of anything to help.

Minerva glanced pleadingly at Snape, who stood, looking on in horror.

Bursting into sobs, Amelia covered her eyes with her hands.

It had been a horrible trip. The plane flight was bad enough – cramped and stuffy, as usual. But the bizarre express train out to the school was the true nightmare. Its roar was almost deafening, and the train seemed to fly around every turn and corner faster than the last.

She'd fought off nausea from the very beginning, not helped by the large, red welt on her forehead that throbbed in pain – from several unsuccessful attempts at running toward and into a brick wall at the London railroad station.

Everything inside the train out to the school had been blurry and hazy; and she could not even look out of a window, because the scenery was so abstract, and so shaded, it made her even sicker.

As the panes of glass began to crack in other side windows, and Snape gazed at them in something deeper than curiosity. Was she doing this?

Something drew his glance away from the glass. The woman suddenly was looking at him. It was almost frightening – especially her eyes. He could only stare back at her, in a mixture of dread, pity and horror.

Something in her mind cleared. A small corner felt peace. Black. He was wearing black. He looked so nice. Black was so nice. So real. So soothing.

A sob escaped her throat and she just flew to him, like a train, or an arrow shot from a bow - slamming into him with so much force he nearly lost his footing.

She buried her face in his cloak and held onto him like she'd never let go. Her hair was ringing wet, but it somehow smelled nice – like heather. Reluctantly, he steadied her with his own arm and let her stay where she was.

Minerva looked on in agony, and brushed tears away.

Albus cleared his throat and smiled politely.

"Severus, allow us to introduce your new assistant, Amelia Garrett."


	2. Chapter 2

_Authors Note: Chapter 2 is a long one, and is really multiple chapters, but as I've worked on the book, it's hard to retroactively remap the early chapters. Thanks!_

BOOK ONE: CHAPTER 2

Six hours and no sleep later, Amelia stared numbly at the morning's fare.

Beautiful piles of fruit, pastry, eggs, sausages, meats and cereals lay before her as if she were royalty. Nauseating. Like smelling the gas fires of the refinery back home. She was battling an increasing urge to vomit.

Her hair hung limp and oily around her shoulders. Hollows surrounded her eyes. Her thin shoulders were hunched over the table – as an unrelenting chill gripped her entire body.

"For God's sake, eat something," Snape remarked, smacking a hard roll onto her plate. "You look like death warmed over."

"I am death warmed over." Her voice was low and black. She popped open a bottle of pills, slapped three into her palm, and gulped them down with black coffee.

His eyes darkened and he glanced at the bottle, just catching the name of the prescription.

"Why is this place so run down?" she asked, not really caring what the answer was – or knowing why she'd asked in the first place.

"What are you talking about? The castle is in fine condition," he answered tersely.

"Look," she pointed. "That whole wall is crumbling – and last night, when I first saw the school, an entire wing was in ruin.

His eyes darkened. "The castle is fine, Miss Garrett. It's you who are in deep trouble, I fear."

She nodded uneasily. "That's nothing new."

"By the look of your forehead, you nearly suffered a concussion on the platform…it's not going to be easy for you here."

Rubbing the welt, to try to ease the pain, she nodded.

"I, myself, had deep reservations about your coming, but no one listens to me."

"I'm sorry, and I didn't want to come, but my aunt is so overbearing. God knows why she…"

His mouth tightened and his eyes filled with anger.

"You could show a little gratitude, Miss Garrett. Your aunt is doing you a great favor by bringing you here; and not without cost to herself and others, particularly me."

Amelia's eyes opened, and suddenly, all of the fatigue of the past few days vanished, as guilt rushed in.

"Minerva may endure your melodrama, but I will not. If you're feeling badly in my classes, I don't care. Dry your eyes and pretend."

Her mouth fell open at the brutality of his words, but for some ridiculous reason, her mind seemed to clear.

"I'm sorry, Severus."

"You may call me professor' or sir.'"

She looked down, wanting to die. He pushed his chair back and got to his feet.

"Be in the laboratory in 30 minutes. And I want black, Miss Garrett. Jeans and a University of Kansas sweatshirt will not fit the bill. We are a boarding school. We dress in uniform every day. Black skirt, black blouse, black cloak"

"Yes, sir."

"And eat the damned roll." He thrust it into her hand.

"Yes, of course." Amelia took a bite and pushed her own chair away from the table, praying she'd find his classroom.

On her way out, she glimpsed her aunt. What he'd said was true. Minerva did look exhausted; worn to a frazzle. Amelia felt another sharp pang of remorse, and walked over to her side, slipping her arms around her aunt's shoulders.

"I'm sorry about last night, Aunt Minerva. I love you," she said softly, kissing her cheek. "Thank you for getting me out of there; and bringing me here to be close to you."

Amelia quietly left, while Minerva stared after her in surprise.

Albus looked over her way and smiled. "See. Severus is the one. She's better already."

-o -S- o-

Once she was draped in black, organizing a so-called "potions closet" was her first assignment and it was a big one. The closet was almost as big as a normal room, and filled from floor to ceiling with beakers, jars, baskets and every other container imaginable. They seemed to teeter on one another like building blocks that were about to crash down, and nothing was in order. Her job – get it into order.

A long week passed. Then another few days. The potions closet looked better and better every day, as Amelia looked worse and worse.

Every day, she would emerge, filthy and exhausted, from her endless organizing duties. There were countless beakers, bottles and vials to arrange by type and classification – exotic, strange classifications she'd never heard of in her own chemistry classes. Roots and dusts and powders and herbs, spices, liquids – but none of them having much to do with the usual elements she had learned about in college.

She tried to do her organizing by general type – such as herb, spice, animal or mineral. Labels were clearly written and cross-referenced in a large book she'd acquired. Inventory was recorded dutifully. But it was a lonely task.

Day after day, Snape never so much as looked in on her. She occasionally wondered if the closet even needed organizing, or if this was a convenient way for him to get rid of her.

Every so often one of his older students would check on her, or pass her a note of instructions penned by him, or take a report from her to him of what had been accomplished for the day.

The solitude quickly got a grip on her. Thoughts of Kansas began to creep back into her mind - memories of her mother's death, the horrible funeral, her father - thoughts that came when she was alone too long.

Finally, after about seven school days, Professor Snape did bother to appear at the end of one afternoon, and Amelia looked up from her inventory list and smiled, as if the sun had risen for the first time in ages. Praying, she would be freed from the stuffy prison, she handed him the ledger, which had a full accounting of every item.

"What do you think?" she asked.

The room did look orderly. She had dusted the cases, added a few lamps she'd salvaged and, of course, organized the countless containers as she would have arranged a pharmaceutical cabinet.

He scanned the inventory list and nodded approvingly.

"Not bad. It was a true nightmare in here."

She smiled.

"Good, then. There are three other similar storage facilities to arrange…"

Before she could contain herself, she shook her head. The word "no," tumbled out of her mouth before she knew it. Judging by his expression, there would be hell to pay.

"I beg your pardon?" he snapped.

As sharp and angry as his eyes were, she would not relent.

"Sir, I can't take this solitude. I'm talking to myself; I'm depressed. I need to be near other people. Please let me help in your classes. I promise…"

"Your personal problems are of no interest to me. I was ordered to babysit you; I'm doing the best I can."

She knew he'd meant to insult her, but hoped she could use it as leverage.

"_Babysit_?" she repeated ironically. "You're not babysitting me, you're exiling me."

It seemed to work for the moment because he paused, apparently a little thrown off balance.

"You're disobeying your orders," she added.

"How dare you speak to me that way." His voice was as furious as if she had just broken every container there.

"With all due respect, sir, I'm not going into anymore closets; I can't." Moisture glittered in her eyes and he glared at her resentfully.

"Oh, please," he muttered, but gave her eyes a brief second glance, as they became almost eerily blue.

"I'll work like a slave for you, but not alone. I can't be alone. Please don't make me stay alone. Let me work with you and help. I can't be alone, Severus – I mean, sir, – I can't be alone…"

She knew she was ranting pathetically, and clapped a hand over her mouth. Suddenly, three flasks popped and spewed their contents in six different directions. A shelf unhinged, and more vials slid to the floor and cracked.

In the distance, she thought she could hear his voice, but the room had become an echo chamber. She felt sticky and burned, but couldn't focus on the dripping mess that was now oozing down her blouse.

Her eyes glittered crazily, and she tore past him out of the doorway and around the corner, not even knowing where she was heading.

Bracing himself against the wall, he stared after her in true astonishment. Harry and Ron, on their way to his class, had come to a stop to see the commotion, and glanced over at Snape, a hint of a twinkle in their eyes.

Snape opened his mouth to say something, but then just shook his head and walked down the corridor. Ron and Harry laughed and watched him disappear.

That evening at dinner, Amelia arrived late. Pale and somber, she took her place beside him, and placed a small envelope near his plate.

"Hello, professor," she said softly. "I'm sorry about this afternoon. Please accept my apology."

He studied her as if she were even crazier than she'd acted a few hours ago. Opening the envelope, he removed the card, which simply read, "I'm very sorry."

"I'll have to frame this," he remarked under his breath. "In any case, those flasks you broke were filled with rare potions that will take me a lot of time to remix."

She nodded. "I'll pay for whatever losses…"

He stared at her as if she were plunging into another panic attack.

"It's not the money," he snapped. "Oh, never mind. You are so miserably out of place here…" He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. She was fairly certain he was praying to wake up.

She placed her napkin on her lap, looking drearily at the evening's fare: some type of congealing meat that was as unappetizing as it had been the night before. Well, another salad it would be.

"You did break those jars, didn't you?" he asked, and she looked into his dark eyes with some dread. They weren't as harsh as she'd expected, and she nodded. "Yes."

"On purpose?"

"No. It just happens, sometimes, when I'm upset. Not often, I promise. Whatever my power is, it's just a waste of time and energy. I can't cast spells like you."

His lips turned skeptically. "Did this waste of energy' happen in Kansas? Is that how your house blew up?"

Her jaw tightened and she fixed her eyes on her plate. So, he knew about that. She'd told her aunt to keep that quiet.

"No. It was an electrical problem that sparked a gas line."

"I see. Well, your aunt is worried and I don't blame her. She thinks darker forces could be at work."

"It was electrical."

He paused and studied her with an unconvinced sharpness to his eyes.

"What if you become distraught again, and an electrical problem' destroys my classroom?"

She paused and gave it some thought. "Well, couldn't you do some type of counter spell?"

He gave her an even longer look. "So, you do know a few things. Isn't that interesting for someone who portends to be completely ignorant of magic."

Sighing tiredly, she leaned in to talk to him more privately. She probably shouldn't be telling him this, but something inside her said it was, oddly, all right.

"Please, keep this to yourself, but my mother just died. It was pretty bad. I'm taking something for the depression. I swear these accidents don't usually happen. I'll see if I can increase the dosage and…get more of a grip on things."

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "What a day."

"Are you angry with me?" she ventured.

"Naturally…you ruined those potions."

She cupped her head in her hands and he sighed.

"All right, I'm not angry. But please, try not to do that in my lab. And I'm not good company. I won't make idle conversation."

"I understand. You won't regret it. I'm a nurse, and I have a lot of chemistry background. I'm sure I can do something to help."

He frowned, but less severely. "I doubt it."

She sighed tiredly and took a listless bite of lettuce.

He forced a brief smile. "I've known what it's like to be going through hell. You'll be all right."

Again, her eyes met his, and stayed there. His face was so interesting. There was so much written there, and she found herself hoping she could get to know him, if that were possible. For a moment, everyone else disappeared and he was the only one in the huge hall, and she began to forget where she was.

"Miss Garrett…" His voice was eventually broke through, though she wondered how long it had taken.

"Yes?"

"Stop doing that with your eyes and let me finish my meal. Please."

Blinking, she broke the connection. He actually smiled for a split second and cut into his roast.

-o -S- o-

"I won't lie to you. I don't like this arrangement. I am doing it as a favor to your aunt."

"Yes, you've made that pretty clear, sir."

"I prefer working alone, and I rarely have assistants, except an occasional student from my house."

Again, she nodded, for what seemed like the tenth time that hour.

He always seemed to be in a hurry, and they were rushing around corners and down galleries and through hallways to get to his class the following morning.

She said nothing and concentrated on dodging the students and other teachers.

"And, to which house do I, or should I say, _we_ belong?" This was clearly a quiz.

She paused. "You mean…Hogwarts?"

He shook his head in annoyance. "See, you care nothing about what goes on here."

"I do care. Give me a chance." She tried to keep pace with him without stepping on his robes, which flew in the breeze as he rounded the next corner and began to ascend a staircase.

Suddenly, the great marble stairway gave a swift pull to the left, a if it were on a pivot. She cried out in surprise and flew against the right-hand banister that ascended with the steps. She hit so hard she wondered if she'd broken her wrist.

"Oh my God," she murmured in disbelief, holding her throbbing wrist in her right hand.

He turned and hurried back to her.

"Did you feel that?" she asked. "The stairway must be broken - or an earthquake just hit. I didn't know they had earthquakes in England."

"No, no." He knelt down, looking as if it were the last thing on earth he wanted to do. "Is it broken?"

Though it was already swelling, she put her fingers on her wrist in various places and then shook her head. "Just sprained, I think."

"You are so far out of your element here," he said gravely. "It's going to be an interesting term. I hope you survive."

-o -S- o-

A few minutes later, he stood in front of about 40 students.

"All right, all right, settle down. This is Advanced Potions for Seventh-Year students. It's very difficult, so if you don't want to work hard, transfer into some lighter-weight course, like Professor Lupin's."

A few chuckles and snickers filtered through the hazy room, but then he went on.

"I'd like to introduce my assistant, Miss Garrett. She's here for a few months visiting her aunt, Professor McGonigall. She has degrees in chemistry and nursing; very accomplished and so on. I'm sure we'll all help her adjust, _as best she can_." He made sure to emphasize those last four words and gave her a chilly, half-smile.

Most of the students smiled politely, and she nodded. One, however, seemed less than hospitable.

"What does chemistry have to do with potions, or magic at all?" asked the startlingly blonde young man in the second row.

Snape paused, gave him a warning look, and then turned to her. "Miss Garrett, would you like to respond, or shall I?"

She shrugged and stood up. "I will."

Looking back at the student, she asked, "What is your name?"

"Draco Malfoy."

"Well, Draco, I feel that science is as much magic as that which you all study. We don't use wands, or incantations, but we study as hard as you do, and we use many mental tools like deduction and hypothesis."

Draco's eyes narrowed.

"Our ways may be more methodical, but without them, we wouldn't have many of the medical or technical wonders, like the train that gets you out here. Great scientists like Pasteur have come up with vaccines and remedies for hundreds of illnesses. It's very magical, really, but we just go about it a different way, with different tools."

Draco's smile had frozen into ice.

"So, in the end, I guess the subjects aren't so different, and the ends are the same."

The class sat quietly and Malfoy's eyes darkened as he sank a bit lower into his chair. Hermoine smiled, and Amelia turned back to Professor Snape.

"Please, add anything I've missed," she said softly.

"I can't think of anything," he said evenly. "Your dedication is admirable."

-o -S- o-

Days passed a little more smoothly as the school fell into its routine. September slipped past before she knew it, and the winds blew colder as the sun set earlier.

To Amelia's relief, she seemed to somehow fall into the rhythm of class schedules, and the routine of Snape's classes. She could almost anticipate what he needed before he would ask, and, when he would leave for a few minutes now and then, she would even clear away some of the cobwebs and organize his books.

Though she couldn't see anything that he did, or that the students did during their potions experiments, she could understand the theories behind them. Listening to the histories of the potions and the uses of them was fascinating.

Amelia would take pages of notes, and ask him questions after class, or at lunch or dinner, if he was not too busy or tired. Sometimes, though rarely, she would convince him to sit outside on a pretty day, or take a short walk in the sunshine, and then ask him about different roots or elements, and compare them to those she'd known in chemistry and medicine.

Rapidly, as she had in her normal chemistry courses, she developed an understanding of formulas and the equations he used – and honestly enjoyed working on much of the homework he assigned to the students.

He could be formidable, and there were little things he did that scared her. He seemed to like bursting into the room at the last second before class started; and he had a way of appearing out of nowhere, or nearly out of nowhere, laying a hand on her shoulder and making her jump. Once, when he did this, she spilled a pot of ink on his papers and he was upset, but managed to contain his temper because even he knew he'd been to blame.

To what she hoped was his pleasant surprise, she was a very thorough and quick grader. Her sharp eyes could catch the tiniest mistake – or even someone in a dim, back row trying to cheat off another's test.

Some days, if he seemed particularly tired or disgusted with the way class had gone, she would bring him strong tea or a sandwich. He'd never acknowledge it, but she made the gesture, just the same.

And, no matter how much he frowned or complained that it was clichéd and tiresome, she would make a point, at dinner, to ask him about his day, or about how his weekend had gone. As days passed, his frowning became milder, and the complaining, softer.

They allowed her to teach her own chemistry class, although it wasn't attracting lines around the building. About 20 or so students signed up for it as an elective. Harry, Hermoine and Ron took it, along with Draco and Neville, and a handful of others. It would have been fine if it hadn't been for Draco, who never missed an opportunity to catch her in an error, or drill her about the value and relevance of doing a particular experiment.

-o -S- o-

As usual, one early October night, she sat down beside him at the dinner table and smiled. "How was your day, sir?"

"You know how it was; you were there." He continued with his soup. "You're late. Did you lose your way again?"

Ignoring him, she reached for her fork. He saw her hand had a new bandage and scowled.

"Another trip to the infirmary, Miss Garrett? You must know the staff on a first-name basis, and it's barely October."

Embarrassed and humiliated, she peered at the evening's fare of congealing lamb stew, some sort of unappetizing looking soup and heavy breads. She was living on lettuce.

"I scalded my hand."

"How on earth did that happen?"

"It's strange. I didn't touch the cauldron, but it overturned on me. Things keep happening: doors slamming, banging into walls…I guess I should be more careful, but the more I try, the more things happen."

"This place is playing tricks on you. Things here will take advantage of you. It's not appropriate for you to be here."

Her eyes glazed over. "You say that every night. It's like the dessert course."

He frowned again and turned to his meal, refusing to talk to her the rest of the time.

-o -S- o-

Later that night, she reclined on the window seat of the faculty quarters, looking out at the pine trees and the moon beyond. The sky was clear. It was past midnight and finally, quiet. Only the fire in the fireplace made a comforting, crackling sound.

As hard as it was to adjust to this school, she truly loved times like these, when it was quiet, dark and moonlit. She yawned and stretched. The door swung open and someone walked inside. It was Professor Snape, and she wondered if he would pass her, or ignore her, or insult her, but she looked over and said hello.

He stared at her as if she'd slapped him.

"You see me?" he asked.

"Yes. Am I doing something wrong again?"

He threw up his hands. "I'm using an invisibility cloak. You can't see me."

"Well, you look visible enough to me."

His mouth opened but no words would come.

"What's an invisibility cloak?" she asked.

"Nothing, apparently." He tossed it onto the nearest chair and sat down next to her.

"What are you doing up so late?" he asked.

"Just enjoying the view. It's so peaceful this time of night."

"You should get some sleep or you'll fall down another stairway."

She laughed half-heartedly. "What are you doing up, professor?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I had some work to do."

She nodded and looked back at the moon. "It's so beautiful here. I love the moon and how it glows through the trees. I've never seen it so bright."

"Yes, it is peaceful. So why can't you sleep, Miss Garrett? I exploited you relentlessly today; you must be tired."

"I don't know. Maybe it's the time difference."

"I could give you a light potion."

"No, thank you."

He fell silent. She looked over at him and caught a trace of pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said gently. "That's a kind offer, but I don't think a potion would help. I'm feeling a little depressed."

"Why?"

She held out her scalded hand. "I'm so embarrassed. I feel like an idiot. I can't see the things you all see. I see things I'm not supposed to see. I can't so much as boil water in your classroom."

He paused and lit a cigarette. Its ember glowed soothingly in the darkness.

"And you don't have to say it again. I'm terribly out of place here. I'm just…not ready to go back to Kansas."

"You have to learn not to listen to my rubbish, Amelia. So what if you're out of place? You're not so bad. Neville is already in love with you and so are many of the other boys."

"They are not." She smiled at the thought. Neville did seem to blush when she complimented him on his work.

"You're ruining their grades, but they stay quiet while they stare at you, so I appreciate it."

She smiled, and he did also, but very briefly.

"Perhaps we'll get to the bottom of this problem of yours," he added. "You definitely have power. It's just…distorted, somehow."

Shrugging, she glanced back outside. "Would you like to take a walk? I love to walk in the dark."

He leaned forward slightly. "You do?"

"Yes, I just love it."

"That's interesting, Amelia, but I hope you haven't tried it around here."

"I'd like to. Can we go, just for a little while?"

"It's dangerous."

"That's the fun of it."

"No, it's really not advisable."

"Then what are you doing walking around so late?"

"Perhaps I'm one of the dangers." He gave her a dark smile. "Plenty of people say so."

Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight and she wondered if he were telling the truth or a partial truth. Either way, it was great with her.

"Can't we go – just for a few minutes?"

"All right." He stood up and they walked together toward the doors.

Outside, it was chilly, but not cold, and the half moon glowed soothingly in the sky. A few clouds surrounded it, but its light still shone clear and silvery on the school and the trees. She loved to do this. The air, the silence and the darkness had always made her feel more alive than ever.

"Everything going all right in chemistry?" he asked, as they made their way toward the Quidditch practice fields.

Her pause was a little too long.

"Well?"

"I'm not sure."

"I am. I heard Malfoy and his fellow rats snickering about it yesterday. You're out of control and they're walking all over you."

She pulled her cloak closer around her shoulders. He seemed to know everything about her before she could even tell him, so there was no sense being evasive.

"They throw these little papers that look kind of like birds, and they make remarks when I'm not looking, and ruin experiments. I'm exhausted."

He remained thoughtfully silent.

"Do you have any advice?" she asked. "They all seem so afraid of you."

"That kind of intimidation takes years. It can't be developed overnight. You're too sweet, and I don't mean that as a compliment."

"Of course not."

"So, it's probably hopeless."

"Thanks." She tried to frown, but a smile broke through, and she looked up into his eyes, her own eyes large and very strangely blue in the moonlight. He refused to look back.

On the ground nearby lay a couple of stray broomsticks and she smiled wistfully. "I've seen some of the students using these. I guess I'll never be able to fly one."

He shook his head. "God forbid."

"Is it nice?"

He shrugged. "I don't care for it. And please don't try. You'll inevitably fall, and probably die."

She nodded, the breeze blowing her long dark hair hopelessly around her shoulders.

"I have had a hard time around here, haven't I?" she asked, taking his arm.

He shrugged. "You're a good sport about it. Oddly enough, you've been some benefit to the lab."

"I love your classes. Here, I only knew the Periodic Table of the Elements, and I find out there's a whole new world of magical elements and potions."

His eyes filled with an enthusiasm she hadn't seen before. "I could show you things that would make you think life was a dream and dreams were life. That is…if you could see them, which you can't…so never mind."

She smiled, and began to feel relaxed and even sleepy as they continued around the fields and back up toward the castle.

"You're eyes are interesting," he said softly. "If you have any magic, which I say you do, it's got something to do with those eyes."

"Maybe you just like them. Why does it always have to involve magic?" Again, she looked up at him, letting the moonlight catch them just the right way, hoping he liked it.

"You know," she said, "you've been very patient these past weeks, letting me assist you."

"Yes, it's a tremendous strain. I should ask you to leave and assist Professor Trelawney."

She laughed. "Please don't. I'd be lost."

"Lost? I abuse you horribly. I don't know how you stand it."

Blushing, she could only look up at him and smile. "I've enjoyed every minute. It's a privilege to work with you."

It seemed as if he could think of nothing to say, or he was debating what to say, but finally, his lips thinned into a grim line.

"Amelia, I'm not anyone you should consider privileged to know. Don't have any illusions about me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Surely, your aunt has told you the unfortunate details of my history."

She drew the cloak even tighter. "A little. I don't really need to know more."

"Yes, I think you do."

"No, I really don't."

"Well, I'm going to tell you."

"Please don't…" she began, but knew he was determined, so she took a breath and prepared for bad news.

"I was a devout follower of "you know who." I went to school with him. He befriended me when I had no others, and he taught me deadly arts and potions that can do unimaginable damage."

Her pulse began to roar in her ears, and she didn't want to hear more, but it seemed important to him that he tell her, so she forced herself to stay, instead of run into the forest like she wanted.

"I was angry and sick and full of hatred. I'd been bullied and taunted for years, but it was no excuse. I allied myself with him, and helped him rise to power."

"But you defected. My aunt said so."

He nodded wearily. "I did. But I also helped him gain the knowledge to do much of the damage he did. I didn't think he would use the knowledge in such a horrific way. I went to Albus and told him everything."

They had come to a stop without being aware of it, and, even in the darkness, she saw the deep pain in his expression.

"So now you can ask your aunt to transfer you into some other class, or maybe the…"

"That's the last thing I want."

He eyed her curiously.

"Professor Dumbledore respects you. You were right to defect when you did. You've helped Hogwarts fight him, you saved Harry's life – the son of a man who tormented you – and you've suffered guilt and loneliness and the hatred of others. You don't need mine."

"You're either totally insane or…totally insane," he managed.

She only shrugged. "I'm just talking a little sense."

"I only wanted to warn you that I'm not to be admired."

"Well, I do admire you," she answered. "You're being too hard on yourself; or just trying to get rid of me."

Pausing to study her, as if he were searching for some trace of sarcasm or falsity, he frowned. "I think you've simply made up your stubborn, Midwestern mind and that's that."

"No, professor, that isn't true."

"Yes it is. I could confess to _being_ you know who, and you'd insist on having your way."

She sighed. "I can't say anything right around you. You're just tired."

He could only look at her incredulously.

"You're right. I'm exhausted, as I usually am after talking to you. Let's get back."

-o -S- o-

"So, how are you this morning, sir?" she asked brightly, plopping down comfortably beside him at his desk.

He grunted some half response and passed her a five-inch stack of tests to mark.

She picked up a quill, set it down, reached into her own bag, and drew out a pen.

Their eyes met and they both broke into laughter.

"I was up most of the night trying to remix some of the potions you ruined," he remarked, as if he were trying to atone for the laughter.

She looked down in remorse. "I would have helped you. Why didn't you ask me?"

"I should have. It was your fault, to begin with."

"Professor," she said, glancing at the test he was grading, "Draco wrote ten liters of lizard oil; it's ten _milliliters_."

His eyes rolled but he marked the error.

"I suppose you are good for something," he murmured.

"Once in a great while," she said wryly and he smiled as if he appreciated the humor.

"We're you a good nurse?"

She felt her throat tighten, but then nodded. "Yes."

"Interesting. Are you planning to go back to nursing once you return to the great state of Kansas?"

Her throat was now dry and cottony. She looked away, and tried to push away images that were clawing their way back.

"…Miss Garrett?"

"Yes? No. I don't know, sir."

His eyes sharpened. Hers began to become bloodshot.

"Tell me about Kansas," he suggested, a bit too smoothly for comfort.

She blinked and the pen in her hand snapped in two, ink trickling through her fingers, like blood. Reddish-purple blood that ran down her wrists.

Stop it, Amelia.

"It's…nice."

"Fascinating. What a vivid description. I shall have to take a holiday there at the first opportunity."

She could only nod, somehow getting the feeling he was spinning a web around her.

He passed her a handkerchief. She'd forgotten about the ink. Now it was on her the cuffs of her blouse. She stared at them in dismay. Those stains. They'd never come out. Nothing would ever get them out. Not bleach, not water, not soap. Oh God, what would she do…

"The tornadoes must be terrible," he said softly, dabbing her sleeve with a cotton ball and instantly removing the stains.

She looked down in surprise. "Yes."

"Did you cause any?"

The edge in his voice had sharpened and she forced a smile. "No. I may be able to break a few bottles, but no tornadoes."

"Give it time." He chuckled and smiled for longer than his normal, two-second limit.

Luckily, a pleasant thought dawned in her mind, and she actually smiled.

"The skies are so blue in the summer, and the sunsets are so orange and crimson and beautiful, especially after a thunderstorm. Before a tornado, they go green."

"I'd like to see that."

"I…miss those skies. They're probably what I miss most about Kansas." Her voice drifted off and died.

"All this rain and fog can be hard to get used to," he conceded. "And you certainly don't see much color in my classroom."

She nodded, and her smile faded as she felt so many different emotions, she couldn't pinpoint any. It would be good to see those skies about now – and walk in the corn, and see Indian Summer gradually fade into deep autumn - with her mother.

"I…need another cup of coffee," she managed, hating herself. "Maybe they've made a fresh pot."

His eyes sharpened. "That's a good idea. I'll join you."

She could feel her stomach knotting. He was too smart, and there was no way out of this. He stood up, adjusting his cloak.

When they had reached the door to the lab, she turned back toward him and looked down, taking a deep breath.

"Professor, I don't really want any coffee. I…just get a little homesick when I talk about Kansas."

Her eyes burned and filled with tears, and she knew they were revealing too much.

To her surprise, he paused and looked down bitterly.

"I'm sorry, Miss Garrett. I shouldn't have pried."

"No, not at all." She brushed away a stray tear. "I just get sentimental sometimes. I'm very glad to be here and I love the work. It's all very interesting, and it keeps my thoughts off of…other things. Thank you for allowing me to help you."

He nodded. "You're welcome."

She brushed her cheeks with her hand. He handed her the handkerchief and she smiled.

He took a breath. "Amelia, I don't care if you cry – I don't even care if you blow something up now and then."

His voice was so kind, more tears began to fall, and she glanced away in humiliation, trying to squeeze them back, but failing as usual.

"I hardly know you, and I always seem to fall apart around you," she managed.

"I have that effect on people." He smiled.

She broke into a little laughter and the tears began to subside.

"That's better. Now your eyes are green, like before a tornado."

She couldn't help more laughter and gave him a beautiful, radiant smile. He didn't yell or scowl or kill her. He only smiled and put his arm around her shoulders, as they walked back to his desk.

-o -S- o-

That afternoon, they both stood before the large cauldron, as he added many different bottles of ingredients to the mixture, smiling at the results and dictating to her the various combinations to be written down.

She wrote and wrote and watched intently, but sighed in frustration after awhile. Glancing up, she noticed Harry, Hermoine and Ron, still taking their time on a relatively minor potions project, joking and obviously making light of the situation.

"Can you see anything now?" Snape asked, as he sprinkled in a powder.

"No," she said softly.

He poured in another liquid. "Anything?"

She shook her head.

"But it's a giant bouquet of orchids, just for you."

She frowned and glanced up toward Hermoine. "What is it, really, Hermoine?"

Hermoine grinned. "It's a dragon."

"I hope you're enjoying this." She glared at Severus.

Harry and Ron began to snicker.

"See anything now?" Snape added another ingredient.

"No." Now she was bristling.

"How about now?"

"Yes, it's lovely."

"Liar."

Her face began to go pink. "Stop it. You're embarrassing me in front of the students."

He stifled a chuckle and laid down his wand. "What a pity. You do very competent work on the abstract problems, but you can't see the results of those formulas."

Staring off into space, she refused to acknowledge the comment.

"I'd like to get to the bottom of it."

"There's nothing to get to the bottom of. I'm not magic." She crossed her arms and felt another headache starting.

"I don't believe that." Snape left the room in search of some herb, and she squinted again at the cauldron, but could see nothing but a bit of vapor.

Harry, Hermoine and Ron were still laughing and carrying on. Their work shouldn't have taken this long, and she began to get impatient.

"Finish up, please. Class is over," she said firmly, uncomfortable with their growing level of levity, most of which was probably directed toward her.

They nodded absently and continued to joke.

"Miss Garrett, how did you get the punishment of assisting Professor Snape?" Ron asked recklessly.

Harry began to gather his books, but smiled. "Yes, Miss Garrett. Professor McGonigall must be very upset with you."

It had been a long day, and their flip tone didn't help matters. Amelia's eyes narrowed.

"I'm actually enjoying this job, and Professor Snape has been very patient with me. He didn't ask for an assistant, especially one like me."

Ron sputtered. "Patient? He yells at you if you spill one drop. Look what he just did…he made fun of you. And he raised his wand at you the other day when you dropped that vial of worm juice."

She looked down and took a deep breath. As famous as these three were, there was something about them that grated on her nerves.

Harry grinned smugly. "Don't worry, miss. Professor Snape's just frustrated that you can't see what he does. He fancies himself the greatest of all the wizards, when, in fact…"

"Harry," she interrupted with a tighter smile, "pardon me, but even though I'm not a renowned, almost sainted, wizard like you, I have flashes sometimes…memories."

"Yes?" Harry's smile began to fade.

"They're very erratic, and sometimes just in my dreams. Once I had a dream about you. Maybe you can clear it up for me, if you wouldn't mind."

"About me?"

"Yes. You were on a broomstick, and you'd lost control. It looked bad, like you could fall a long way down – even to your death. I saw someone saying words. Someone I know now, but I didn't know then. His robes were on fire. But I didn't hear what he was saying. What was he saying, Harry?"

Silence filled the room like the air itself, and only the ticking of the clock could be heard.

"He saved your life. Am I mistaken?"

Harry looked down and his throat contracted.

Nodding, she continued relentlessly. "I had another vision, just a few nights ago. Something in a broken-down, forgotten room. You three were in trouble. A dangerous, crazed looking man and Professor Lupin had cornered you. Professor Snape came in again, and pushed them back. Is that correct?"

Harry smirked. "Not at all. Snape was badly mistaken. Sirius Black was innocent and so was Lupin. I had to blow Snape against the wall."

Amelia paused and then looked at him plainly.

"I would have stood with Professor Snape. I think you were a fool. You got lucky, simple as that. The fact of the matter is that Professor Snape was trying to help you…again."

"But he was totally mistaken," Hermoine protested.

"Like you were, when you tried to burn him up?" Usually, Amelia didn't have much of a Midwestern accent, but at that moment her voice was as flat as the plains of Kansas.

Hermoine's mouth dropped open and she blanched two shades of white. The clock's ticking had become as loud as if they were living in the clock, and the students stood like three zombies.

"I'll bet none of you has ever thanked him. That's sad enough, but I'd better not hear another word of disrespect toward him, or I'll deduct so many points I'll make him look like Santa Claus."

"Yes, Miss Garrett," they replied in an anemic unison.

"Now go rinse out that mess and leave."

When they'd left, she finally took a breath, and rubbed her temples. When she made a turn, Snape was suddenly right there. She jumped, as usual.

"Would you _please_ not do that. You know it scares me." She closed her eyes and tried to calm down.

"I didn't want to interrupt that noble speech," he needled.

"Oh please. I'm just sick of those three."

"Try dealing with them six years."

She could only shake her head in further respect for him.

He moved closer to her. "So you've dreamed about me, Amelia. I'm flattered." It was good to see him smile. She smiled, too, and felt some warmth return.

"Amelia, may I ask you a question? And I want the truth." He looked intently into her eyes.

"I would never lie to you."

"Would you really have stood with me in that room you dreamed of?"

She nodded. "Yes."

His smile faded and he studied her as if he were trying to see anything – anything at all insincere.

"That means a great deal to me."

She looked at him, a bit puzzled.

"I'm glad. It's the truth."

His smile deepened. "You're very different, Amelia. You cause a lot of trouble, but, you know, I'm glad you're here."

"Thank you, sir," she replied warmly.

"Amelia," he said softly.

"Yes?"

"Call me 'Severus.'"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Amelia held what was probably the 25th dropper in her hand, as Severus read out of yet another huge book with yellowed pages. He called for five drops of this strange liquid, and seven drops of another exotic powder, and so on and so on. There were so many ingredients to the potion that she had to concentrate like she would in a surgery and make sure she used a sterile dropper or measuring spoon each time.

"Slow down a little, please," she said absently at one point, and Snape stopped and waited impatiently.

"Concentrate a little, please," he replied tersely.

She sighed and filled the next dropper with something green.

"So, what is this potion for?" she inquired, as she handed it to him.

"Lupin. Keeps him from killing us all during a full moon. So would a silver bullet, but that's, unfortunately, illegal."

She smiled wistfully. "So many rules around here - it must be hard to walk the line."

His eyes sharpened and he glanced her way with a twist to his lips. "Are you talking about yourself, Amelia?" His voice was amused as it usually was when he began needling her.

Blushing, she flashed him a warning look and stared back at the tray.

"I see. The truth makes you blush."

"I'm just warm. This is taking a long time, and my cloak is an inch thick."

"Forgive me. I'll open a window."

It was nearly freezing out and she shook her head. "No, thank you. Just tell me what's next."

"Silver nitrate."

She complied.

"Do you like the darker side of magic, Amelia? Is that why you put up with all of my abuse?" He trapped her eyes in his.

"Oh please. I don't know anything about magic." She tried not to smile, but lost the battle.

"Yes, you do. You insist that you don't, but your mother was a witch, the same as your aunt."

"Not a practicing one. What's next on the list?" She tried to steer the subject back on course but knew, by the tone in his voice, that she was doomed.

"I'll bet you love haunted, forbidden places, and Halloween and mystery, and dark, evil people like me."

"For heaven's sake, you're not evil; more like, in a perpetual bad mood."

"I definitely sense a darker bent to you." His voice fell lower and something about it made her pulse leap.

"Stop it, or I'm leaving."

"You're still on the clock. I'll dock your pay."

"Go ahead. Where can I spend that wizards' money? Topeka?"

He leaned closer. "I know of a terrible shop in the back of Diagnon Alley. It deals in black magic."

Smacking down a jar, she made for the door, but he merely pointed his wand toward it and it slammed shut.

"Severus…" But she began to laugh and he was right at her side, looming, the next instant.

"All right, all right, you win." She dared to look into his eyes, which were, as she expected, very black and amused.

"I can't help it. I love your mystery, and the black you always wear…and your darkness," she confessed, blushing all the more.

Every so often he'd torture her this way and he usually won. Somehow, though, it was pleasant and kind of fun, and he would even break a smile, so she'd let it go.

"Tell me what kind of horrible things you enjoy," he asked, now standing as close to her as possible, more to intimidate than anything else.

"But the potion…"

"Oh, bother the potion. It will keep."

She thought for a moment and smiled warmly. "Well, I used to dress all in black, like you."

"My, Amelia, you get more interesting every day."

"I'd smudge my eyes with mascara and all of that when I was in high school. I hated wearing the white nursing uniforms in college. Black just felt better - more natural."

"It certainly does."

Her face began to glow as the memories returned.

"Sometimes, I'd walk the corn fields at night. It felt wonderful, and I felt so alive, especially around Halloween. October was like a manic phase for me."

His amusement had disappeared and he was gazing at her as if a halo had appeared around her head.

"I think the potion is boiling over." She pointed toward the burner, but he stood like a statue, as if he didn't hear.

"Professor…"

"Yes, yes. Don't worry about it. You have a very interesting history, Amelia. What a mixed-up person you must be."

Her glow faded, as she clasped her hands. "You're right."

He paused. "I'm sorry. That's not what I meant."

"No, it's true. I really don't fit in anywhere. I'm a joke here, and I don't belong there. Sometimes, I dream about finding a little house, far out in the desert, and just disappearing."

He smiled, but it was gentle. "Don't disappear, my dear."

Their eyes met for a moment, and then they both looked down. Feeling the long hours of the day, she sat down on a bench, and he sat beside her.

"In a way, we're alike," he remarked. "I'm not winning any popularity contests here. A lot of what goes on is insanity, caused by students who should probably be expelled – but nobody listens to me. They think it's one big garden party. I make potions to keep teachers from killing people…it's ridiculous."

Nodding, she said nothing, and he continued.

"I was an outcast from the time I came here to attend school. Not that I was blameless, but I never could find any true friends."

His voice was filled with fatigue and bitterness. Amelia felt her eyes begin to sting and blinked it away.

"I'm sorry," she attempted. "I didn't mean to dredge up painful memories. You're much more respected than you know. My aunt always speaks highly of you. My mother did, also."

"What about you?" he asked.

Bravely, she met his dark eyes with her own, which were clear and blue.

"I think the sun rises and sets on you. You know that."

"Yes, I suppose I do." He smiled to himself.

It was quiet for a moment, and then she glanced back over to him and paused, not knowing if she should say what she was thinking of saying.

"What now?" he asked.

"Well, I don't know if I should bring this up, but my aunt was always telling me about Hogwarts, trying to get me to attend."

"Why didn't you?"

"Oh, my father wouldn't hear of it."

"It's an abomination." He smiled again.

She nodded. "Some of my aunt's stories were sad."

"Oh?" His voice gained a new edge.

"There was one about you…when you were a student here."

"Let's not discuss it."

"She told me what happened to you that night, when those boys nearly killed you playing that prank. I feel terrible about it."

"I'm touched. Let's finish the potion."

"In Kansas, they would have been expelled. Maybe even sent to prison."

His laughter was ironic and bitter. "Your perspective is very unusual, I'll grant you that."

"And now you have to stand by while James' son receives so much attention and accolade. It must be very hard."

His forehead creased into a dozen lines, and his lips were so tight they were nearly invisible.

"Do _not_ psychoanalyze me, Amelia."

"My mother told me that you once had feelings for Harry's mother."

"You just go on and on, like a train. Do you have any idea what I could do to you…"

"Just hear me out, please."

Her voice was so firm, he actually stopped and looked down resentfully.

"My point is, that, speaking as a woman, it was her loss."

The hand that had started to reach for his coat pocket froze and fell back to his side. As she'd deeply hoped, some of the lines on his face began to fade.

"See, you should just let me finish, sometimes," she chided. "I was giving you a compliment and you were about to kill me."

He refused to meet her gaze. "You exhaust me."

Behind them, the cauldron began to bubble and spill and scorch on the burner. An acrid smell of singed chemicals and sulfur permeated the air. He just closed his eyes.

"Professor, what about the potion?"

"Let them chain him to a tree. I'll do it tomorrow."

"I'll go and put out the flame."

When she returned, she sat back down next to him and looked over at her, somehow more relaxed. "You have a way of getting me to say things I shouldn't. I'm sorry for burdening you with depressing history."

"There's nothing to apologize for. I love to talk with you, and if you ever feel like it, you're always welcome at my house in the desert."

He sighed peacefully. "I may take you up on that. You know, I have a home, Amelia. It's been in the family for years. It's the darkest, most hideous place...you'd love it. It's away from all this nonsense…I'll take you there sometime, if you'd like."

"I would, very much."

Her eyelids started to droop and she felt a heavy, comforting weight come over her. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the back of the chair.

"I'm so tired," she murmured. "Are you tired?"

"Yes, I'm very tired." He took her hand and pressed it, and didn't let go. She felt herself dozing off, at the same time his breathing became more deep and regular.

"Well, isn't this sweet," rippled the velvety voice of Professor Lupin, who let the heavy classroom door bang shut behind him.

It was light outside the windows, to Amelia's surprise, as she snapped awake along with Severus. If they had dozed off for a brief time it should have been dark by now.

Lupin frowned. "Where's my potion? Or did you two colleagues' become preoccupied with other matters?"

"Why, look what the dog dragged in. Wait. I suppose you are the dog." Snape smiled quickly at Amelia and she pressed her lips together to try to keep a straight face. Lupin looked at his watch.

"Hilarious. Where's the potion?"

"We haven't finished yet. Get out. The moon's not full until tomorrow."

"Damn you, it _is_ tomorrow. You always procrastinate until the last minute." Lupin's eyes blazed.

Amelia glanced at the clock and winced. It was six in the morning. The light she had seen was morning light, not evening light.

Snape shrugged as if he couldn't care less. "I should burn the recipe. You shouldn't even be here. God knows why they keep inviting you back."

Easing off of the chair, she hurried over to the lab table, as increasingly heated barbs were exchanged.

When she returned, she approached Lupin and smiled warmly.

"Here, professor, your potion, and a little extra in case you need it." She handed him a gleaming bottle with a black ribbon tied around the stem.

Stunned, Lupin accepted it and glanced over at Snape, who stood, staring in question, at Amelia.

"I can't stand wasting expensive ingredients, and I didn't want to prep 35 new vials," she explained to Severus. "So I just finished it."

Snape's lips twisted irritably. "Do you think I'd use anything expensive on him?"

Lupin took her hand and pressed it to his lips. "You're an angel. He doesn't deserve you. Come and work for me."

"When hell freezes over," Snape said bitterly. "You have your rabies vaccine. Get out."

Lupin smiled coolly. "Thank you again, Miss Garrett. I'm in your debt."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The following Friday, Neville slipped out of the chemistry lab, amid sounds of cackling laughter and breaking test tubes. He hurried down the corridor to Snape's classroom and peeked his head inside, despite the fact that class was in session.

"Professor, sir, sorry to interrupt. Please come," Neville stammered, his face pale and sweaty.

Snape's eyes narrowed, but he laid down his book and wrote an assignment on the black board.

"What is it, Neville?" he demanded, once they were both outside the door.

"Chemistry, sir. It's bad. You know, Malfoy and the others, sir. She caught them cheating and, well, please come quickly, sir."

Snape scowled and they rushed down the hallway to the door, where even outside, the uproar could be heard.

"Go in. I'll bide my time." Severus said.

Neville eased back inside and closed the door.

There, Amelia was beside Draco, standing over a mess of chemicals that had "accidentally" spilled onto the floor.

"Clean it up," she ordered.

"I didn't do it," he protested with a lilt in his voice.

"Yes, you did," Harry yelled.

"Shut up, Potter," Draco retorted. "You're just sweet on her."

Then, another spill, and a flame, and more laughter.

"I think you may be doing it all, Miss Garrett," Draco taunted. "With your, shall I say, unusual abilities."

Hermoine gasped, and the boys of Draco's clique roared. The door opened slowly and Snape slipped inside, unnoticed.

"Mr. Malfoy, you may leave, now," Amelia said tensely. "We'll talk about your quiz with Professor Dumbledore."

"I didn't do anything wrong," he answered carelessly. "You can't see anything around here, anyway."

Amelia was about to reply, when her alcohol burner exploded and she crashed back against the blackboard. A shard sank into her hand.

"Well, well," Snape's unmistakable voice rippled through the room. It wasn't particularly loud, but somehow, it cut through the mayhem like a laser and brought everyone to a dead silence.

Amelia stared at him in surprise and relief, but then wondered if he'd start yelling at her, or at them, or at them all. The boys froze and Draco only shrugged and smiled casually.

"Professor, her powers seem to have gone awry," Draco said. "Look at this mess."

"Very interesting," Snape answered coolly.

"We completed her assignment." Draco held up the test tubes of titrations.

Snape examined a couple of the tubes. "Well done, Mr. Malfoy. Tell me, what are titrations?"

Malfoy opened his mouth, but made no reply.

"See this?" Snape held out a toothbrush.

Draco nodded darkly.

"I think you know how it goes. Tomorrow, not today."

The boys looked down resentfully and Draco stepped forward.

"But sir, tomorrow is Quidditch. And we're playing against Hufflepuff," Draco argued.

"Not you four." Snape smiled acidly. "The rest of you, please overturn your mixtures when you leave. Our friends have volunteered their Saturday to clean. Miss Garrett, your room will be sparkling by next class."

Malfoy glared at Amelia as if he'd like to take out his wand and turn her into a toad; most likely, a dead toad.

The class gladly followed Snape's orders and filed out, beaming as if it were Christmas morning.

Draco jerked up his book bag and tried to pass, but Snape stood in his path.

"One minute, Malfoy," he said, pulling him aside so only he could hear.

Grudgingly, Draco stopped in Snape's shadow.

"If you're thinking of any retaliation against Miss Garrett, which, I know you already are, I would reconsider."

Draco scowled deeply and refused to look him in the eye, but Snape continued.

"It's so easy for someone like me to slip into his old ways. Like riding a broomstick, really. I would slip so fast, nothing in your gnat-like mind could dream of the misery I would cause you."

By now, Draco's face was swollen and blotchy with rage.

"This is ridiculous," he hissed. "You're a traitor to your own house. She's ridiculous."

Snape smiled icily. "I wouldn't underestimate her, Malfoy. She hasn't been here two months, and she already has you cleaning her room with a toothbrush."

Cursing under his breath, Draco looked at Snape, and then back at Amelia, like he wanted to kill them both. He flew up the steps and out the door, slamming it as hard as he could.

By this time, Amelia's robes were soaking up water and chemicals that were pooling all over the floor. She wiped sweat from her forehead and looked tiredly at the mess. No doubt it was her turn to be reprimanded. The house in the desert looked pretty good about now, if she could just find a way to get herself there.

"Thank you," she said softly, trying to soften the oncoming blow. "I think this room might be on fire now if it weren't for you."

"You're not going to make it, you know. You're not. I'm not, either."

She braced herself for the pending tornado.

"You've been here less than two months and look at this." He crossed his arms in exasperation.

"I'm sorry. I told you Draco was harassing me. You wouldn't give me any advice."

He sloshed through the liquids and stood before her. She stood up to face him. He was tall but so was she, so it wasn't quite so daunting.

"For just one day…please, give me a little peace."

"I give you plenty of peace," she grumbled. "I just graded a hundred tests for you."

"No running into things; no riots in your classes. It can be an early Christmas present."

"I'm sorry, I really am." She clasped her hands together, partly in frustration with him. "Lord, all I ever do is apologize to you."

A sharp pain took her attention from him. Her left hand was oozing blood from the glass shard that had flown into it from the alcohol burner.

He noticed it and paused. "You should take care of that."

Embarrassed all the more, she nodded. "It probably needs a couple of stitches. I should go up to the hospital wing and have it done."

"Let me try something first," he offered. "It may not work on you, of course, but it's easier than stitches and you won't scar."

They sloshed out of the room and down the hall to his classroom, leaving their wet footprints behind them.

When they arrived at his lab, he brought out a bottle of something clear and clean smelling, and dabbed it onto her hand. It stung just a little, but her cut began to clot. He bandaged it with gauze and nodded approvingly.

"There. I think you'll be able to avoid needles."

"Thank you." She smiled warmly, forgetting her hand was still resting in his.

He stood very still and tried not to look into her eyes. He failed this time, and when their eyes met, she could only gaze deeper and deeper, farther and farther, until she felt as if she were falling into some kind of dark, deep pool.

"You've helped me so much." Her voice was dreamy.

"They pay me extra."

She paused and her smile began to bloom into pure radiance.

"I…love working with you."

He caught his breath and backed up a step, his own smile fading. "You've been through a lot today, Amelia. Go and rest awhile."

"You're…just…amazing."

Helpless, she now could only continue staring, in pure, unchecked adoration. Her eyes deepened in color, until they were an indescribable, ocean blue.

Perhaps, it was the strain of the afternoon, or the bizarre circumstances, or how good he looked in black – but she sought out his eyes and couldn't tear hers away. She also couldn't breathe, and she forgot what her name was. He backed up even farther, as if he were attempting to shield himself from lightning that was about to strike.

Her exponentially exploding emotion blinded her to his reaction, so she ignored the near flood of panic washing across his face.

"Severus, I…"

"Don't, Amelia," he begged. "Don't say it."

"But, I…"

"No. You promised me peace. Go have your coffee. Visit your aunt. You've lost control."

"No, I haven't," she whispered.

"I'll see you at dinner." He clamped a hand on her shoulder and hurried her through the door and out to the hall.

She turned back for one more look, her eyes now huge, turquoise pools of emotion.

"I'm going to say it one of these days," she whispered.

"Fine." He slammed the door with a boom.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Perhaps it was because she couldn't finish her sentence, or because of Draco's antics, or because of the increasingly ever worsening food, but late that night, Amelia woke up, shaking and in tears after yet another nightmare about her mother. Her chamber was as cold as death, and she looked over at the fire, which was roaring, but giving off no heat.

It was freezing and windy outside, and she hurried over to the hearth to stand in front of it. As cheerfully as it blazed, there was still very little heat. In utter frustration, she threw on her longer black cloak and hurried out of the room, tears running down her face and visions of the dream flashing through her mind like horrible photographs.

"Is there any place around here that isn't cold?" she said aloud, and tore through the faculty lounge and out the great double doors into a long corridor that led down many twists and turns to various classrooms. She would have tried to find Severus, but she didn't knew where his chamber was. He didn't seem to have one the faculty wing, and always seemed to vanish after dinner.

With any luck, he'd be in the lab. Sometimes he'd work late into the night. It was about midnight, so she doubted it, but decided to try.

Though it took her awhile to circumnavigate the corridors, she finally arrived at the classroom, and saw light from under the door. Sighing in relief, she opened it and walked inside.

He was crouching over his desk, poring over various books, apparently deep in thought. Biting her lip, she hoped he wouldn't yell, and slipped down the stairs, to his side.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "It's past midnight. I'm not walking. I don't have time."

She pulled her cloak tighter and shivered again. Hollows encircled her eyes and she did not meet his gaze.

"I'm just tired and I can't sleep. It's so cold in my room. It's always cold."

"Well, what am I supposed to do about it?"

"Nothing, nothing."

"You look like death warmed over. Why are your hands shaking?"

"I'm just tired. I…had a nightmare. I can't get any sleep around here. God forbid you be in the faculty lounge. I must have walked five miles of hallway trying to find this damned room."

"What? You're not supposed to…"

"Please, don't. I can't take it tonight."

His eyes filled with surprise, and she raked an agitated hand through her hair.

"You can save everyone else around here from werewolves and broomstick crashes, but when _I _need you…"

His pen snapped onto the desk. "For God's sake…how was I supposed to know?"

"I don't know. I thought you were magic."

Sighing, he sank back in exasperation.

She frowned and tried to battle the tears that were coming. He just kept on.

"You should never, ever walk these halls at night. That's why you have another cut on your forehead, isn't it?"

She reached up and touched her brow. Yes, there it was.

"You must have hit another door, or a wall."

"I don't remember. I need some coffee." She started back toward the kitchens, but he followed her like a shadow.

In the dark, cavernous dining hall, she hurried over to a sideboard and poured herself what turned out to be a cup of tepid, coagulated coffee that looked three days old. He planted himself at her side.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you up roaming around?"

"I had a nightmare, and I just wanted to talk to you."

She took a sip of the coffee. It was revolting and she gagged, spitting it back into the cup.

"Why does everything around here taste so horrible?" She threw the cup against the wall and leaned over the sideboard, trying not to be sick.

"Amelia…" His voice had become low and concerned.

Looking up into his eyes, which were neither cynical nor angry, but only deeply concerned, she blinked and blinked again.

In spite of her efforts, she couldn't stop the flood of tears that had been threatening to break free since morning. She began to sob, and the porcelain coffee pot exploded into tiny fragments that spun in the air and then dropped everywhere.

The same, overwhelming nausea and dizziness she'd fought on the train took hold of her again, and she could not stop crying. Hating herself, she forced the queasiness back. She'd done everything else to make a fool of herself here, but if she was sick in front of him, by God, she'd take the first plane back to Kansas.

"Amelia, please," he said softly. She felt his arm slip around her and, as mortified as she was, she buried her head in his shoulder and continued to cry.

"Good Lord, what was this dream?" He smoothed her hair and held her closer.

"It was about my mother," she managed. "It's all right. I can't really remember it now. You know how dreams are."

He paused and peered into her bloodshot eyes. "Don't lie to me. You do remember."

She tried to pull away, and wiped her eyes with her sleeve, still feeling a deathly chill.

"I'm sorry, Severus. I'm all right now. Forgive me for falling apart." She tried to take a step, but the dizziness wouldn't leave and she began to collapse. She would have wound up on the floor if he hadn't braced her.

"What was your nightmare about?" he demanded.

"I don't remember."

"How did your house blow up?"

"I don't know. What does that have to do with anything?"

"I think it has a lot to do with things. Why did you do it?"

"How can you insinuate that?" More tears streamed from her eyes and they started to glow a luminescent blue.

"I'm not insinuating anything, you liar. You did it. You blew it up."

"Stop it!" Without another thought, she reeled back and slapped him as hard as she could.

He stared at her in surprise, but only for a moment, and then seized her wrists like he'd never let go. "You blew it up. Minerva told me the explosion put you in the hospital for a week. Why did you do it?"

"Leave me alone!" A lamp began to swing above them, but he lifted his wand and it stopped.

She broke loose and raced for the doors, but with a few words from him, they slammed in her face. She hit with a thud and sank to the floor, wondering if she'd broken her arm.

"Tell me now. I don't care if you bring down this entire hall."

It was no longer a request. It was a demand, and she knew she wouldn't get out of the room without complying.

"Look at me," he ordered, kneeling beside her.

When she did, she stared at him in agony and the words broke free.

"She killed herself, Severus. She killed herself. I keep dreaming about it again and again. I should have known. I should have stopped it. These nightmares go on and on. I can't stop them."

A roaring silence crashed down on the room like the most powerful clap of thunder. He stared at her in pain and confusion.

"She was sick. She'd been sick a long time and was in a lot of pain. I came to check on her one night after my shift, and she was dead. She'd saved up her medicines, and she'd taken them all at once."

He said nothing, and only waited patiently for her to continue.

"I didn't want anyone to know it was suicide."

He sighed and took out a cigarette.

"I am a nurse. I should have made her more comfortable, or been able to do something, or sense she was going to try something."

Smiling pensively, he shook his head. "No, my dear, it doesn't work that way."

"And, you were right, I blew up the house. I don't remember much, but after I found her, things got crazy. I was so upset, I started running for the door…and the house blew. Ever since then, nothing's been right. You know how I am."

He only smoked quietly. She leaned against him in exhaustion. God it must be two in the morning.

"So, you've told no one?" he asked. "You've carried this around all this time?"

She nodded grimly. "I come from what's called the Bible Belt.' People are strict and unforgiving, and it doesn't take much to get you to Hell. Suicide is an express ticket."

"I see."

Tears pooled in her eyes again. "I don't want to hear that whispered about her for years and years. She was so wonderful and kind, I can't hear that about her. Especially when I failed her."

"Amelia, it wasn't your fault. Suicide isn't like that."

"How would you know?"

Abruptly, he looked down and she tried to catch a breath.

"She and I were alone. God knows why she married my father at all. He judged her unmercifully, he stifled her magical creativity, and then he left us. We counted on each other. I should have helped her, somehow."

He sighed and shook his head. "No. You're wrong."

Pressing his hand desperately, she whispered, "Please, don't tell my aunt. Please. She'd fall apart."

"You have my word."

Looking back into his eyes, she saw nothing but mercy and kindness. More tears, if that were possible, streamed down her cheeks. She stayed in his arms, sobbing, but a little more under control.

"Do you think she's in Hell, Severus?" she finally ventured.

"She's not in Hell, Amelia." His voice was probably the kindest voice she'd ever heard in her life.

Sobbing all the more, but this time in relief, she eventually found herself able to breath again. At last, he passed her a handkerchief and kissed her cheek.

"Can I tell you something – something you must swear never to tell a soul?" he asked.

She nodded. "Of course you can."

He leaned forward to talk as softly as possible.

"When Harry's mother and father were killed, I was not part of the conspiracy, but I had been in league with _him_ some time before. I felt so overwhelmingly guilty that I had contributed to the enemy's power, and inadvertently helped him with his plan, I poisoned myself, Amelia."

"What?" Her voice cracked.

"I mixed a concoction strong enough to have killed a Dementor."

"Oh my God," she murmured.

"Albus somehow found me and, God knows how or even why, saved my life. But without his knowledge of potions, I'd be dead and rotting."

She covered her face in her hands, and her hair fell around her in a stringy mess. He tilted her face back toward his.

"My point is that, at the end, I wasn't thinking of anybody helping me or rescuing me. I was determined to die, as I'm sure was your mother. There was nothing you could have done."

For a long time, they just remained in each other's arms, and she would cry every so often, but her sobs became calmer and less prolonged each time. For once, she began to feel warm, and color returned to her cheeks.

"Come on," he finally told her. "Let's get out of here."

"Please don't leave me alone," she begged. "I can't go back to my room."

"I'll never leave you. I mean, I won't leave you. I won't leave you, tonight. I mean…"

"I know." She kissed his cheek.

He smiled, and they walked, arm in arm, out of the doors.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The next morning, she awoke when sounds of footsteps and voices began to filter through the large, open sitting room of the faculty wing.

When she opened her eyes, she realized she was on the couch, laying close against him, her arm thrown around his waist, and her head resting against his shoulder.

He was just sitting quietly, with his feet propped up on the table, reading a book. For the first time in days, she felt warm and comfortable, and realized his cloak was draped over her.

She rubbed her eyes and looked up at him. He put aside the book and smiled.

"How can I ever thank you," she murmured and held onto him even tighter.

"God knows," he replied tiredly, but in that wry tone she had grown to love.

"I didn't want you to have to hear all of that. You have enough to worry about just coping with things around here."

She laid her hand gently against his cheek, which still had a healthy red welt.

"I'm so sorry for slapping you."

He took her hand and pressed it. "I'll live. I'm just relieved you finally told me everything. I knew this was more than a pleasure trip. You may start feeling better all around."

"Maybe I'll finally be able to eat something," she said, laughing softly.

"That would be a relief. No more whining at dinner."

She closed her eyes again, never wanting to leave him or this moment, but the moment was about to fly away like so much smoke.

"Good morning," said an icy voice from behind them.

Amelia felt her muscles tense. It was her aunt, and judging by her tone, she was not pleased.

Minerva crossed her arms. "Isn't this a dignified scene. Kindly untangle yourselves before more damage is done."

Grudgingly, they stood and faced her. Minerva's eyes were frosty and sharp.

"I was worried about you, Amelia. You seemed ill yesterday. I was looking for you last night and I couldn't find you anywhere."

Amelia sighed deeply and kept a tight hold on Severus' arm.

"This certainly does not look good for either one of you," Minerva went on. "The other day, Professor Lupin told me that you were carrying on like a pair of puerile, seventh-years and delaying his potion. Now, I know he was telling the truth."

"Lupin? You believe a werewolf?" Snape retorted.

Amelia's mouth dropped open in indignation. "Professor Lupin is the one who was out of line, not Professor Snape."

Minerva frowned. "You are in no position to evaluate that, miss. And Severus, never in my memory has a teacher docked his own house as many points as you did the other day when Malfoy was, allegedly, insubordinate to her."

"Aunt Minerva, Draco was practically attacking me. Ask Harry or Neville."

"The point is, people are beginning to whisper. It is unprofessional for both of you to behave in this manner. It will only bring trouble to the school and to your classes."

"Behave in what way? We've done nothing inappropriate," Snape said bitterly. "She's been a competent assistant – and professional in every way."

Minerva's lips twisted. "I find you two wrapped up like vines of ivy you call it professional? You'd better get serious about this, Severus; you could be dismissed."

"That's outrageous," he said, in utter disgust. "I can serve you-know-who for years and be forgiven – but this will finish me?"

Ignoring him, Minerva turned toward her niece. "Amelia, you may teach your chemistry class, and spend the rest of the time with Professor Trelawney. I'll speak to her later today."

Severus' froze and Amelia shook her head, her eyes narrowing into slits.

"I refuse. I want to stay with Professor Snape. You don't understand."

"It's final." Minerva's voice was steel.

"No, it's not." Amelia's voice was of harder steel.

Minerva glared at her as if she'd just asked to assist in Lord Voldemort's dark arts class.

"Don't argue with me, young lady. I brought you here."

"And I'll leave if you do this. Professor Snape is the one person who means anything to me here, and he's helped me in ways you'll never know."

Minerva crossed her arms and opened her mouth to respond, but Amelia cut her off.

"I love you, Aunt Minerva, but if you take him away, I'll go back to America, and I'll go out into the desert, and you'll never see me again."

Her aunt paused uneasily. Judging by the death in Amelia's eyes, Minerva knew she wasn't bluffing.

Both Amelia and Severus looked like corpses, they were so drained, and Amelia stepped back and took his hand.

Minerva raised her own hand nervously to her throat.

"I see," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. "Please, don't go back. Remain with Professor Snape, if you must, but you can't spark innuendo. It's bad form, and, well, he already has enough baggage." She flashed Snape a disapproving glance.

Amelia's eyes were as steady as a duelist's. "He's as good as the next person, and it seems to me he keeps saving everyone around here."

Gathering her cloak about her, Minerva nodded. "I can see I'm outnumbered. Just watch your step, both of you."

With that, she hurried out the doors.

"What a night," Snape muttered. "I was just sitting by the window, minding my own business…and all hell breaks loose. What did I do to deserve this?"

"Nothing. You did nothing. It's terrible that you got caught in the middle of all this. You'd be happily teaching your potions classes now, without any worries, if it weren't for me."

He looked down. "Not so happily."

Stepping back, she studied him curiously. He swallowed uncomfortably and looked away. "What I mean is, they're not gossiping. Nobody pays the slightest attention to me."

"That's not true." She looked up into his shadowy face, with the most beautiful, sparkling, adoring gaze in the world. All of her fatigue and pain had suddenly melted away, and his hands dropped to his sides as if she'd stunned him with a wand.

"I pay attention, Severus," she said in the deepest sincerity. "I'm so incredibly in love with you, I don't even know what day it is, anymore."

"Amelia…" but his voice died into a confused murmur.

"You don't have to say anything. I just thought I should tell you." She reached up and kissed him softly on the cheek. The welt faded and disappeared in seconds.

"We can't," he began, but then stopped.

The next thing she knew, her arms were around his neck and his were around her waist. He reached down and his lips fell on hers and practically tore them apart with their urgency. Enclosing her in his robes, he kissed her again and again, whispering her name and other things she couldn't hear or didn't understand.

She returned his kisses and caresses, as desperately as if it were her last day to live. At that moment, everything seemed so natural and so right, neither of them paid attention to any sound around them, or to the school, or to the time. Outside, the sun began to break through the fog in a soft, rose light.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

"Lovely gown," Snape observed, as she slipped in beside him at the faculty table that night.

He was being sarcastic. She still wore her usual uniform of black, black and black. And it was hopelessly wrinkled because she'd fallen asleep for the remainder of the afternoon.

"Where were you?" he asked blandly.

"You know where I was. I fell asleep right at your desk. You left without waking me up."

He smiled. "I didn't have the heart."

She had to laugh. "You liar. You wanted me to sleep through all of this."

Shrugging, he merely took a sip of his wine.

He was dressed more formally than usual, in a longer cape and a black, silk cravat to match his normal black attire. When she pulled her napkin off the plate, there lay a corsage of delicate, black orchids with a pearl pin and a spray of black sweet peas. Her face lit up, most of the fatigue vanishing, and she glanced over to him in elation.

"Severus…"

"I don't know anything about it. Maybe Lupin put it there." He took another sip of wine.

Lifting it very carefully off of the table, she studied the delicate petals in the candlelight. It was so unusual, and had a light, sweet smell that she'd never experienced before.

"Professor Lupin has excellent taste," she mused. "I've never seen anything so pretty. Professor Lupin must be a lot nicer than I thought. I suppose I should go over, this instant, and thank him."

Leaning closer to her, he said, "All right, Amelia. I found them tossed off in a corner. You might as well wear them."

She nodded. "Well, thank you for salvaging them. They're unbelievable. Help me pin them on. I'd probably stick my finger."

He complied and she pressed his hand in thanks.

The lights had dimmed, an the music was slow and mysterious, played from a gallery above - melodies and harmonies she did not recognize, but found interesting and soothing.

Below, into the horizon of the hall, the students feasted on the reams of meats, cheeses, breads, fruits and incredible looking desserts. Many were dressed in ornate costume. Even some of the teachers wore elaborate, beaded robes, satins and silks and other shimmering fabrics that she'd never seen before. Black and orange candles and legions of jack-o-lanterns glowed on the tables.

Amelia nibbled on her rather sour fish, and enjoyed watching the throngs. Some had started to dance, and Severus sat and looked on gloomily, sometimes glancing at his pocket watch. Out of respect, she made no hint to dance, and tried to chat about potions, or the weather, or the homework.

"What does the room look like, Severus?" she asked at one point. "Is there anything in the air? I see a little glow, but that's all."

A fleeting look of pity crossed his face, but then he shrugged. "Just more jack-o-lanterns and candles floating about. It's all tacky illusion."

She smiled gratefully at him and then felt someone behind them. Judging by his frown, she knew who it was.

"Hello, Miss Garrett, you look stunning tonight." The smooth voice rippled over the table like so much oil.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Lupin. She's not stunning. She's exhausted, and she's wearing a dreary uniform."

Amelia frowned at him and looked down.

"Would you care to dance?" Lupin ignored him.

"No, she wouldn't." Snape said sharply.

Lupin didn't bother to look at him. "Don't listen to his tirades, Miss Garrett. Come and dance."

Severus' smiled coldly. "The port is particularly good tonight, Lupin. I'll go and personally prepare a glass for you."

Continuing to ignore him, Lupin noticed her corsage. "Black orchids…and on Halloween. You don't see that often, anymore. Isn't that some kind of tradition, Snape? I can't quite recall."

Amelia's hands began to clench the table and she squeezed her eyes shut, wanting them both to disappear.

She stood up and laid her napkin beside her plate. "I'm just in the way here. Please, Professor Lupin, take my place." She pushed her chair out for him and walked away.

Smiling smugly, Severus leaned back. "She's with me and not you, Lupin, and you can't stand it. To me, that's like, a wonderful Christmas present."

Laughing ironically, Lupin took out his pipe. "What elixir did you slip into her tea?"  
"Believe that, if it consoles you."

Lupin lit the pipe and sat back thoughtfully. "Wonders never cease. She won't give me the time of day."

"She's smart. Too many poor women have."

"You have a few notches, old friend. Are you just trifling with her, or do you truly care for her?"

"That is none of your business."

"My, my. It is serious. I thought you only considered true-blue witches."

"I always wind up eating my words," Snape remarked. "But, my God, Lupin, she's so unusual, and do you know what she told Potter?"

"Hmm?" Lupin's eyes gained an amused twinkle.

"She said she would have stood with me against you and Sirius, that day in the shack."

"My goodness." Lupin drew a breath. "She's a keeper."

"It was probably the highlight of my miserable life. She sliced Potter to mincemeat in minutes. For a moment, I thought I'd died and gone to Heaven."

Lupin leaned forward. "Then don't be your usual stupid self, Severus. I'd give a lot to have a woman think that highly of me. Why are you still sitting here?"

--------------------------------

Edging her way through the wild, reckless students, she tripped on her skirt a couple of times, and could hardly see the doors, there were so many people crowding the hall. Faintly, she heard her name being called, and glanced back to see Severus not far behind her. He caught her sleeve, and she turned to face him.

"Aren't you still bickering with Professor Lupin?" she complained, trying to avoid some sparkling, red devil that danced by.

"I'm sorry." His voice was low and sincere.

She smiled. "That's all right. I'm tired, anyway."

He frowned, but then paused and held out his hand as an invitation to dance. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Aren't you going to ruin your reputation?"

"What reputation?"

Slipping his arms around her waist, he pulled her closer. She laughed in relief and leaned against him, holding him tightly.

The music was some type of popular song, but they just danced slowly, as if it were a waltz. Sound seemed to fade, anyway. In the opposite corner, Harry beamed with pleasure.

"I told you they would," he bragged to Ron, and held out his hand. Ron grudgingly passed him a couple of Gringots bills.

"You look nice tonight," she said softly, reaching up and slipping her arms around his neck.

He pulled her closer and bent in so their foreheads came together. "I shouldn't have made that remark about your appearance. As always, you're beautiful."

Radiant and glowing, she could only smile, as she had so many times, and stare, crazily in love, into his eyes.

"I've never heard you say that word, Severus. I think the holiday is getting to you," she whispered, feeling the pull of his embrace.

"It's a special night, Amelia. Do you feel it?"

She paused for a moment. "I feel more intense in October. I guess intense' is the best word I can think of."

"That's a perfect word. Colors become brighter. Things smell better. Food tastes better. Everything…" He stopped and his eyes burned into hers. Her eyes were starting to lock onto his, and she felt her breathing get shallower, if she was breathing at all.

"Yes, everything," she replied, not even knowing how she was still managing to stand.

"I want you so much," he whispered. "I can't live through another night without you."

Her eyes glittered crazily and she could only think of two words: "Let's go."

The room was whirling around in circles, and the people all seemed like blurred ghosts. She held onto his hand and they practically tripped over each other running out of the hall.

--------------------------------------

Time seemed to leap forward and then crash to a halt, as that night passed. Her memories of it always came in flashes. They seemed to be running through twisting corridors and down staircases; he threw open a door to a large, black room. Then, their starving lips came together and weren't apart the entire night. He ran his hands through her long hair and murmured her name. Her arms locked around his neck, and she drank from his own lips just as eagerly and hungrily as he was from hers, whispering his name with all of the feeling she had.

She didn't know how their clothing wound up in shreds, but it did – and they made love all through the black, endless night. He was as tender as he was passionate, whispering her name again and again, and she would answer – with every emotion inside of her and every inch of her body.

Everything spun and flew like a cyclone had hit. They were on the bed, and then it seemed they were on the ceiling – everywhere. She would cry out, and he would crush her in his embrace, until she thought they really had become one person. Clocks didn't matter, time didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

When she finally opened her eyes, she knew there was some light filtering in through the dark velvet curtains, but she had no conception of what the time was, nor what day it was, nor even quite where she was. She was lying in his arms, covered in black quilts. It was quiet and serene, as a soft rain fell against the window.

Everything was so dark, that it was hard to distinguish anything about the chamber, and she didn't try. She only listened to his deep breathing.

"What time is it?" she asked sleepily, feeling his arms close around her once again.

"What day is it?" he added darkly. "If it's Monday or Tuesday, I'm finished here like your aunt said."

She laughed softly. "You cast a spell on me, didn't you?"

"Oh, please. I don't need to cast spells – not on you, especially. I had no idea…no idea."

Blushing deeply, she answered, "Now you know."

He took her hand in his and kissed her fingers.

"I felt like we were flying part of the time. Were we?" she asked.

"We were doing a lot of things. Are you all right?"

She nodded. "I'm fine." Tears began to form in her eyes and he sighed.

"All right, now, none of that." He smiled and pulled her close.

"I'm sorry, but it was such a release. I can't help it." A few tears trickled down her cheeks and he kissed them away.

"I hope I did everything, well, correctly," she added, laying a hand on his cheek.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm not a witch. I can't do exotic, witch things you may  
expect...oh never mind."

He laughed and laughed. "How did I live so long without you?"

She blushed even more deeply as their lips met.

"Let me guess," she mused, "Halloween is some sort of romantic milestone for wizards?"  
"It can be special. I'd say it was, for us."

They simply remained in each other's arms for some time, and then he took her hand in his. "What do you think?" he asked, kissing it softly. "My rooms are dark, and full of spiders."

Laughing, she nodded. "I love it here."

He smiled. "I suppose it reflects my personality."

She shook her head thoughtfully. "Not at all. I see blues, and greens and reds, purples and even yellows every so often."

"You see more than most people, with those beautiful eyes. Much more than is there."

"No. Not more."

Then, a memory floated into her mind and she had to laugh at the irony.

"What?" he asked softly.

"Until a few weeks ago, I had to call you sir.'" She gave his hand a soft squeeze.

"Until a few weeks ago, I was a fool."

"Not at all."

Staring up to the vaulted ceiling, he only sighed. "I don't know why you put up with me."

Her eyes sparkled. "I guess love is a mystery. But you do look very good in black."  
He smiled. "I'll make it up to you. I can do things to you that…"

But she laid a finger across his lips and let her long hair spill onto his shoulders. "I just want to be close. Anything we do is special. Anything at all."

He cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes as if she'd just saved his life.

"I love you," he whispered.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

"Love had nothing to do with what we did," he said crisply, a short time later. "I was using you, Amelia, and it won't happen again."

They were, as usual, hurrying down the crowded hallways, heading to his class. Students were rushing along, bells were ringing, and general commotion of the school day had invaded like an army.

"I see," she replied calmly, doing her best to keep up with him. "It's strange, I'm sure you said something to the effect of loving me, but I must have misunderstood."

He flashed her an annoyed look and she only shrugged innocently. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"You're not taking me seriously."

She sighed and just barely avoided a door that swung open in her path.

He continued to frown as they turned another corner. "Halloween is a very dangerous holiday, and it always has a mysterious effect on wizards."

"May I ask a question?" she said.

"No." He threw open the door to the classroom and walked down the steps to his desk.

"Since Halloween fell on Friday, and today is Monday, and we never left your chamber until an hour ago - does the effect you're talking about last into November?"

He crossed his arms. "Don't be flip with me."

"I'm sorry."

His voice softened just a bit. "Regrettably, I was overcome. And it didn't help that you coerced me into dancing with you."

Yawning, she sat down on a stool, waiting for him to wind down.

He resisted looking at her, but at last seemed to lose the will.

"All right, what is it?" he complained.

She merely shrugged. "Nothing. We don't even need to discuss this."

"Good."

"Except, I thought it was very special." Her voice grew thoughtful dreamy with the memories. "And, maybe you were under some type of holiday spell, but I certainly wasn't."

He slammed a heavy volume down on the table.

"I'm entitled to my opinion, sir." She smiled faintly.

"Then I hope you have a good memory. It won't be repeated."

"I think it was beautiful - even spiritual."

For a moment his face darkened and the lines there deepened, but then his eyes rolled, as usual.

"You want to turn it into poetry, when it was purely physical," he said tersely.

"I don't care what you say…and you know something?"

"For God's sake, what now?"

"I don't feel used."

Frowning, he was about to add something, but students began filing in. Amelia only shook her head and began to prepare the day's ingredients.

-o -S- o-

As Snape relentlessly went through drills on various herbs and exotic ways to combine them, the early November sky grew gray and grim, and snow flurries began falling.

It dawned on Amelia that she hadn't heard Hermoine's voice either asking or answering questions today, and she glanced up from her own notes to see if she was there. She was, but she was pale and looking down at her desk, her head propped in one hand.

Moments later, Severus' eyes followed Amelia's up a few rows to spot Hermoine, as she actually was laying her head on the desk.

He stopped cold and his forehead creased in surprise and annoyance.

"Miss Granger, am I boring you?" He moved closer.

Amelia cringed. He could be ruthless with daydreamers.

"Miss Granger, did you hear me?" He walked up to he desk. Amelia stood up nervously. Hermoine only whispered something and Snape knelt down beside her.

"Are you ill?" he said softly and she nodded.

"Look at me. Can you look at me?" he asked.

Hermoine turned her head, but then slumped back down.

"Potter, go and notify the infirmary we're on our way," Snape told Harry, who was sitting beside her. "Hermoine, can you walk? We need to get you to help."

Amelia hurried up and felt her forehead. "Professor, she has a very high fever."

They slowly helped her to her feet, but she immediately collapsed. Severus caught her and lifted her into his arms, starting toward the door.

"Please come with me, Miss Garrett."

So Amelia followed while the rest of the class watched in terror.

For the next hour, they consulted with various infirmary wizards and attendants over which potions and antidotes to try. They went over all sorts of elixirs, and mysterious sounding roots, and names of things she'd never even heard. So far, however, the fever, raged.

Amelia managed to find a thermometer and took Hermoine's temperature, which stood at 102 degrees. The girl's face was flushed and blotchy, and Amelia began sponging her forehead and arms. Worry turned to concern and concern turned to desperation.

It wasn't long until Hermoine became delirious and began to talk to them as if they were her parents. Then she rambled about childhood memories, dentists, homework, even the Yule Ball.

Amelia could stand it no longer.

"Isn't there any antibiotic around here? She probably needs an antibiotic, and I would think we should start an IV."

Severus turned toward her a if she'd just told him to slit Hermoine's throat.

"This is a magical matter, not a medical one, Amelia. It may be a curse."

"She has medical symptoms. Shouldn't we at least try?" she asked desperately. "We have to break this fever."

At last, after consulting with someone in an official looking robe, Snape came back and nodded. "Fine. We'll try. Go and tell the orderlies what you need."

After consulting with the hospital's doctor, she hurried back to Hermoine's bed, carrying a tray of syringes, IV lines and alcohol swabs. She also carried three empty test tubes and another syringe.

"They want to run blood tests," she said to Snape.

When she gave Hermoine the penicillin shot, and drew the blood samples, Hermoine was so exhausted, she barely flinched.

"Could it be meningitis?" Amelia asked Snape and the doctor in dread. "In American boarding schools and colleges, it's not uncommon."

"I don't think so," Snape answered. "Let's call Professor Lupin."

After hours of pouring through volumes of books on symptoms of various curses or side effects of poisons, Severus and Amelia returned to the infirmary to check on Hermoine. Lupin had arrived, and could only shake his head in frustration.

"She's still feverish," Lupin told them worriedly. "And she's delirious on and off…calling for her parents."

Snape's face tensed. "Have you tried all of the usual incantations?"

"Yes."

Amelia took Hermoine's wrist and felt for a pulse, which was weak and slow.

Professor Lupin examined her eyes and took down a few notes. "We'll watch her, and we'll keep her away from the other students," he said.

-o -S- o-

Late that night, Amelia sat in front of the fire, quietly working on the needlepoint she'd started a few weeks earlier. It was good to feel warm again, after so many weeks of being perpetually chilled.

As was often the case, Severus sat beside her, looking through several potions volumes and scribbling notes. She had finished the H' part of the pattern, and was adding a red cross and a medical caduceus through the H.'

Looking over her way, he laid aside the book. "Really, Amelia, it's very good, but I could finish it for you in about five seconds with a completion spell."

"No, thank you." She continued with her sewing.

He frowned. "You've been toiling at that for weeks. It's driving me insane, and you're going to go blind. Then you won't be able to grade the mid-terms."

Shrugging, she handed him the hoop.

"That's the beauty of it, Severus. It takes time, and you see it come together, bit by bit. Even the imperfections make it beautiful."

"I should just finish it for you."

"No, I enjoy working on it. But thank you."

He shook his head hopelessly. "It must be an inbred, Midwestern trait."

She laughed softly and nodded. "It's very popular there. I learned needlework when I was six. I can even make lace…I won a prize for it at the state fair."

"Incredible."

"Anyway, it's relaxing, after a day like this. I hope Hermoine is all right. I hope the antibiotic does the trick."

"I'm sure it's nothing major, and she's in good hands. We'll check on her in the morning."

She took the hoop from him and resumed her sewing.

"I guess this wasn't the best day ever," she mused. "Poor Hermoine collapses in class, and…oh, never mind."

He frowned. "And what?"

Shrugging innocently, she replied, "And I find out I was taken cold, calculated advantage of by an evil wizard. What do you think I should do?" Her tone was slightly playful and he shot her a bored look.

"Complain all you want, but it won't change the fact that Halloween was a terrible error in judgment and loss of control."

"Oh Severus…" She smiled and rested her head against his shoulder.

He leaned back and said nothing, but she noticed his arm had found its way around her shoulders, and she continued to sew contentedly as the fire crackled away.

As the night wore on, she talked aimlessly about Hermoine, the new potions he was teaching and how interesting they were, how much Malfoy hated her, and how bad the food was. All the while, he listened, and sometimes ran his fingers through her hair, half closing his eyes.

It was nearly midnight when her eyes began to tire, so she gathered up her sewing box and stood up. She assumed he was asleep, but his eyes opened immediately.

"Goodnight," she said, letting her lips brush against his cheek.

"I'll walk you." He rose and buttoned his cloak. "These hallways are precarious, especially at night."

She nodded and took up her own cloak.

Through the silent, dark corridors they walked, and it seemed like instead of tearing through as they normally did, their feet were immersed in quicksand. It seemed to take hours to travel the short distance to her door – and they seemed to go more slowly with every step.

When, at last they arrived, she smiled again and looked up at him with large, melancholy eyes. "I'll see you in the morning."

He nodded, his own eyes reluctant, even regretful.

She reached up to kiss him, and he leaned lower. Their lips met softly and gently, and then again and again. His hands ran through her soft hair, and down her neck, and his breath became warmer and heavier.

He slipped his arms around her waist and lifted her off of the floor. She loved it when he did this, and a smile bloomed on her face.

"I'll miss you," she whispered, so only he could hear.

"I'll miss you, too," he whispered.

"I'll really, really, really miss you." She kissed him softly.

"Yes, I'll…what am I saying? I won't miss you, and you won't miss me."

"Yes, I will."

He raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Why do I fall into these hopeless dialogues?"

She only blushed. "I'm sorry, and you're right. I shouldn't prolong this. Please put me down so I can go off, all by myself, alone, all night."

But he didn't put her down.

"…No one to talk to me, or hold me. Well, that's how it is when you've been used."

By now, his eyes were heavily glazed over. "Are you finished?"

Blushing all the more, she only laughed. He set her down and glanced quickly to his left and then to his right.

"This is only for your benefit, Amelia. I suppose we can stay together tonight, but that's the end of it."

Her eyes lit up like twin candles and he couldn't help smiling at their beauty.

"Don't start glowing like that. I feel sorry for you, so I'll accommodate you this once."

"That's what I love about you – how much you give of yourself."

"Yes, I'm like that."

She nodded and they both dissolved into laughter and fell into each other's arms.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Days passed, and whether it was due to the various potions Snape mixed, or the many incantations Lupin said, or help from the antibiotics, or a combination, Hermoine's fever diminished and finally broke. But by then, several other students and a couple of instructors were suffering from high fevers.

Every day, Amelia would spend hours in the hospital, taking temperatures, monitoring vital signs, administering antibiotics, and taking blood samples. When she wasn't there, she would help Professor Lupin and Professor Snape pore over volumes on various curses, poisons and antidotes. They would try whatever seemed reasonable, but so far, none of them worked on relieving symptoms or breaking fevers.

Those symptoms appeared simple enough – almost insanely simple. Everything would start with a fever, which would spike very high, followed by delirium. An antibiotic would be administered, the fever would drop, followed by utter exhaustion, dehydration and then what looked like a mild case of pneumonia.

Every day, fewer students would attend classes, and the hospital beds began to fill to capacity. Even at meal times, noticeable gaps in the rows of seats were appearing.

Of course, Malfoy and his gang had been in class, right as rain, in the front row. God forbid he come down with the illness instead of someone like Hermoine, Amelia thought drearily.

Harry and Ron were still quite healthy, very thankfully. In spite of their perpetual go-rounds with Snape, it always made Amelia feel better when those boys were anywhere Malfoy was. When Malfoy would make some kind of biting comment to her, either Harry or Ron would usually deflect it. She was grateful they seemed to be on her side.

There was something missing, though. Hermoine's seat was empty, and it just seemed unnatural; even foreboding. Try as she might to avoid looking at the desk, when she forgot, Amelia felt a strong twinge of regret and anxiety. Grimly, she hoped Severus was right and Hermoine would fully recover.

One soggy, November afternoon, when Amelia turned back from erasing the chalkboard, Draco stood just inches from her and she caught her breath in surprise.

"How is Miss Granger?" Draco asked in a heavily concerned voice that did not quite convince.

Amelia reluctantly met his eyes and then instinctively looked away. As much as Snape could intimidate, there was a darkness about Draco that she feared a hundred times more than Severus on his worst days.

"She's stable, Draco. Thank you for asking." Amelia forced a smile.

Malfoy nodded deliberately, while Snape looked at him coldly from across the room.

"Class is over, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said.

Draco's eyes narrowed, but then went back to normal. "Sir, I was wondering, we all were, if someone could have brought on this illness. Perhaps someone new? Someone not from here."

The insinuation quickly burned its way to the pit of her stomach, and Amelia felt a knot there, as her hands started to get cold and clammy.

"Nobody is from here, Malfoy. Students and teachers come from all over the country," Snape answered frostily.

"Perhaps we should research those from other countries," Draco continued clinically. "Who knows what viruses they have in, say, America."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry seethed. "You think you're so clever."

"That's 20 points, Malfoy. Get out." Snape glanced over to Harry, who was glaring at Malfoy with fury in his eyes and his wand in his fist.

"Maybe you're behind it, Malfoy," Harry added hatefully.

Malfoy smiled blackly. "You're just sweet on her. I hope she doesn't give this disease, or whatever it is, to you - and ruin your famous powers."

"From what I know of you, I'd take my chances with her any day," Harry retorted, glancing at Amelia, who smiled gratefully.

"You're all so bloody blind, but there are more and more people around here who are starting to see things as they are," Draco hissed. "Maybe she'll wind up in Azkaban."

Suddenly, Amelia heard some kind of Latin-sounding expression, and a great bolt of blue-green lightning, or electricity, arced across the room toward Draco. Malfoy flew up against the ceiling and then tumbled back down to the floor with a sickening thud.

Ron groaned and covered his face. "Harry, you'll be expelled."

Harry remained frozen, trying to catch his breath, glancing at Snape with petrified eyes.

Snape smiled evenly. "I didn't see anything, Mr. Weasley. Did you?"

Instinctively, Ron shook his head. "Nothing, sir."

Harry and Snape made their way over to Malfoy, who was slumped against a corner, rubbing his neck.

"Mr. Malfoy, you must be more careful," Snape said softly. "You're liable to get hurt, or even killed."

"Miss Garrett is the one who will kill us," Draco seethed, dusting himself off and wiping the blood from under his nose. "What do you really know about her?"

Malfoy shook his head in disgust and climbed awkwardly to his feet, glaring at Snape.

"She's been nothing but trouble since she came here. She's bewitched you, and robbed us of your attention, where it should be," he hissed.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry snapped. "You've already gotten far more attention than you deserve."

Draco shoved Harry to one side and stormed out.

-o -S- o-

Later that night, Amelia and Severus stood beside Hermoine's hospital bed, having been summoned by Professor Lupin.

"She doesn't seem to have any powers to speak of," Lupin said in a low voice. "We've been trying a few very simple exercises – but there's nothing."

Hermoine was propped up on her pillows, with much more color in her face, but with the most anxious expression Amelia had ever seen her wear – even during a difficult exam.

"Professor Snape, I can't even levitate anything. I tried with the book over in the corner, but I couldn't."

Snape asked her to try it again, and again, she failed. Lupin and Snape gave each other a puzzled glance.

"I can't do anything," Hermoine whispered. "What if my power is gone? What if I don't recover?"

Professor Lupin managed a few bland reassurances and patted her hand, but Severus' folded his arms across his chest and refused to make eye contact with her.

"We need to take things a step at a time, Miss Granger," Lupin said in a calm, physician's voice Amelia was all too familiar with. "You need to concentrate on getting well. Sometimes these things happen. We're doing all we can counter-spells."

"But professor, I'm afraid…" Tears trickled down her cheeks. Lupin patted her hand again. Severus scowled and turned away from her to face the window.

Hermoine wiped her eyes but more tears fell. "I don't have a strong magical pedigree to begin with. What if this illness has taken the power I had?"

Amelia knelt down beside her. "Hermoine, Professor Lupin is right. There's every reason to be optimistic and we have to take things slowly."

"But if I lose my power, it's over for me. There's nothing left." Suddenly, she looked as if she'd aged 15 years.

Taking her hand, Amelia smiled gently. "You're wrong. There are so many options for a bright young woman like you."

"No, there aren't. I might as well die."

Lupin looked down and stepped back beside Severus. Amelia shook her head and squeezed her hand.

"Don't say that, Hermoine. You're still so young and so talented. There are so many choices for you," she urged.

"What are you talking about?" Hermoine whispered.

Amelia smiled gently. "You could go to college, like I did. You could become a doctor, or a chemist, or any type of scientist. It's not so different from what you all do here."

Hermoine stared at Amelia with confused, bleary eyes.

"College?" she whispered, as if Amelia had asked her to leap off the nearest tower.

Snape snapped back around and glared at Amelia as if he'd like to throw her off of the same tower.

"She won't have to worry about a civilian college, Miss Garrett," he said sharply. "Her powers will return."

Amelia stood up, unable to help feeling a bit rankled.

"I only want her to know that her life isn't over if she can't use this particular form of magic." Her voice was crisp.

Hermoine pulled the blanket higher and Lupin groaned as Amelia and Severus faced off across the bed like duelists.

"Your attitude toward this crisis is regrettable," Snape said, just as crisply.

Amelia's eyes flared and a basin overturned, clattering to the floor. An orderly eyed them in fear.

"Let's discuss this later," Lupin attempted.

Nodding, Amelia gave Snape one final glare and left. He was right after her, the door slamming behind him, but she picked up her pace.

"Do not walk away from me," he ordered.

His voice was like death, and, though very resentfully, she stopped.

He stepped closer to her, a deep scowl marring his face.

"I know you have no respect for what we do, but I don't appreciate your cavalier attitude toward this crisis," he said coldly. "Her entire life could be in ruin, and you talk about her leaving Hogwarts and attending a muggle college as if it were a choice between coffee or tea."

She took a deep breath. "I have deep respect for your work, and I feel terrible about all this. I only meant to give her hope of another option which is just as worthy and honorable as what she is doing now."

"Listen to me," he said furiously, his voice rising. "Hermoine is a bright, talented student, full of hope and potential. To have that crushed…to see that taken away…she'll die. I can't have that. I won't."

Bracing herself against the wall, Amelia could only look at him in a strange mixture of panic and disbelief as he continued.

"We're talking about children possibly losing their powers for life – and being ostracized for it. Amelia, wizards can be just as petty and prejudiced as muggles. I know. I have been one of the worst."

"Losing her powers isn't a death sentence, Severus, and she needs to know that. We have to prepare her for choices she may have to make – choices that could be as fulfilling to her as magic."

"There are no such choices," he snapped.

By that time, their voices were echoing through the vaulted corridor. Windows were rumbling and cracking. Paintings were falling, and clocks were running backward.

"No such choices?" she exclaimed. "That's ridiculous. I love nursing and chemistry and medicine. If they're not magical, I don't know what is."

"Yes, I've heard the sermon." His eyes were black and bitter.

She could only shake her head. "This could happen to any of you. What if, God forbid, this disease destroyed your power?"

"The answer is simple," he said, so calmly it made her afraid to hear the answer.

"I'm not going to listen to this," she said anxiously.

"I would go into the laboratory and mix the strongest poison I could find…"

Her eyes, which had been filled with anger, now filled with panic and horror. "Please, Severus…don't even think of it."

Sweat matted his black hair and his eyes had gone insane. "As I was saying, I would pour the mixture into a tall goblet – a special one I once designed just for the occasion…"

Her breathing was coming in erratic spurts and her vision started to blur.

"Don't say it." She was begging now, and tears welled in her eyes. "Please don't say it…"

"Enough of this!" thundered a voice so loud it shocked both of them, and Severus crashed against her, his arms locking around her as a shield.

It was Albus, and he grabbed Severus by the collar and tore him away from her, as she slowly sank to the floor. He threw Severus against the far wall and stood between them like a surreal referee.

"That is it! I've had all I can endure from both of you. We could hear you all the way down in the hospital wing, and poor Miss Granger is in tears."

They stared at him in astonishment.

Albus scowled. "You're both banished from the hospital until further notice, and I forbid you to see each other, unless you're supervised in the lab."

Amelia was so weak she could offer no argument. Severus' eyes remained riveted to the floor.

Albus shook his head in frustration. "Did it ever occur to you that both of you could be philosophically correct? There's room for magic and science in this world. Both of you are complete snobs."

"But Hermoine…" Snape attempted.

"Leave Hermoine to me. I and I alone will discuss her options with her. You two have enough problems of your own."

It was quiet for a few moments and Albus sighed deeply. "Severus, good heavens, I barely drag you back from one poisoning attempt. You're going to thank me by trying it again?"

Snape scowled bitterly and looked away. Albus turned to Amelia.

"And you should know better than to back him into a corner, or to trivialize the significance of his power, or his dedication to magic, in any way."

She looked down. "Yes, sir."

"Both of you are exhausted. We appreciate the work you've done. Most of this anger is just fatigue talking. Get some rest. And the subject of science versus magic is forbidden to be discussed by you two in public. Do you understand?"

She nodded, too rattled to argue.

"Severus?"

"Yes."

"Now, both of you - out of my sight. I'm too old for this. One day you're inseparable; the next, you're spitting nails."

-o -S- o-

Amelia managed to climb to her feet and she couldn't resist giving Severus one final glare before she started on her way.

Once he'd made sure Albus had rounded the corner, he hurried after her.

"Amelia," he called softly, "wait."

She wiped the remaining tears from her bloodshot eyes and turned toward him.

"Don't talk to me," she whispered. "I can't believe you'd kill yourself if you lost your powers. I thought I meant more to you than a closet full of potions."

"There you go, trivializing what I do."

"I'm sorry, but if you go poisoning yourself, after making me fall in love with you, I'll never, ever forgive you." Her eyes glittered as they had that day in the potions closet.

"I didn't point a wand to your head," he retorted. "If you fell in love with me, it's your own fault."

"Oh, as if I had a prayer," she said indignantly. "All that black you always wear; your mysterious personality; your voice. You're…a predator."

He merely gave her his signature "you're a lunatic" look and shook his head.

"You're no victim," he said resentfully. "Your eyes have great power and you use it ruthlessly. Smiling the way you do, and telling me you love me in every other sentence…you know exactly what you're doing."

"I have to be direct. With your thick shell, if I didn't say it a hundred times a day, we'd be sitting here until Armageddon."

"Must we go through the psychology?"

She could only lean wearily against the wall. "You said you loved me. You weren't lying, or delusional, or possessed by a demon, or any of the other excuses you give me."

"Your point, please?"

"If you loved me, you wouldn't drink poison and leave me."

He scowled and she started crying again, wondering if she were breaking some kind of world's record for tear production.

"Goodnight, Severus," she said bleakly, and resumed her walk down the hallway.

But he was right along after her.

"On top of everything else, you're going to leave me alone tonight? I thought it was…spiritual." He smiled smugly.

Her mouth fell open. "You're horrible. Just horrible."

"That's what they say."

-o -S- o-

"What's the use of staying with you? You're going to take poison. I'd better start planning what desert I'll move to."

She continued her walk and he cursed and turned the opposite direction but then turned back.

"Amelia," he persisted, "don't go. You'll be attacked in the hallways…and it's bad luck to let a night pass over an argument."

This time his voice was not caustic, but soft and somewhat sad. She stopped in grudging agreement. He said nothing, suddenly looking utterly exhausted.

"Severus," she whispered, cupping his face in her hands, "I just lost my mother. How could I lose you, too?"

"I'd be nothing without my powers."

"Not to me. I need you, and I love you more than anyone in the world. And, well, what if we had children one day? They'd need you."

"Now I will take poison."

Smiling, she tried not to laugh.

"You'd love me as deeply if I were an ordinary chemist in that dreary, Kansas hospital you come from?" he asked skeptically.

Looking him squarely in the eyes, she nodded. "I'd love you as deeply if you were a janitor there. There's nothing ordinary about you, no matter what you do."

He scowled. "It's impossible to have a fair argument with you. It's like trying to argue with the tide."

"I'm telling the truth. Please, just promise me."

Pausing, he seemed to be considering it. "You won't stop, will you? You've locked onto this, and you'll just go on and on and never stop. Am I correct?"

"How can I stop?" she asked softly, kissing his cheek. "I love you."

"Oh, all right, I promise. Can we please go?"

Wrapping her arms around him in gratitude and relief, she kissed him softly. He picked her up and said a few words she did not understand. In a puff of smoke, they were gone.

-o -S- o-

When the smoke had cleared, she was dizzy and weak, as she had been on the train, but she felt his arm around her waist, steadying her, as her vision cleared. Then she gasped and grabbed hold of his free hand, seeing that they were sitting up on a ledge of one of the castle's highest turrets.

Moonlight streamed over the garrets and gables, and she saw a raven flying beneath them.

"Severus, I can't…" she managed, closing her eyes, but he only smiled and held her tightly.

"Yes, you can. You won't fall. I thought you'd like the view from up here. It's better than that silly windowsill."

It was magnificent. The moon was full and the silver light streamed everywhere, illuminating the grass, the pines, the walls of the castle – even the water.

Gradually, her dizziness faded, and she began to regain her composure and enjoy the beauty.

"I come here sometimes," he said. "Not very often, but once in a while."

"It's wonderful." She kissed him softly and he pulled her close.

"It's also very high. I can throw myself from here if I lose my powers."

"You promised."

"I only said poison."

"I hate you." She buried her head in his shoulder. "I'm the one who should jump - right now."

He only laughed. "I'm not leaving you. I give you my word."

She looked up into his eyes in incredible relief. His own were genuine and kind.

"I'm sorry if I made light of your powers," she whispered. "I care about magic. I really do."

"Oh, don't even try."

They both melted into laughter and she blushed.

"We're supposed to be banned from each other," she whispered in delight.

"That makes this all the more enjoyable." He kissed her and his eyes glittered in the blue light. "I'm driving your poor aunt to the brink."

Amelia smiled. "What about you? I thought Halloween was a terrible mistake, never to be repeated."

He swallowed hard and looked out over the lawn. "It was a terrible mistake. I'm only doing this to spite your aunt."

She nodded.

It was a speech to which she'd become accustomed. Halloween was a catastrophe; a disaster; a loss of control; her fault; anything he could think of. But somehow, when it was time to part at night, there was no parting. Something always went awry.

Perhaps it was the fault of the hallways.

To hear him talk, people were dying like flies in the corridors, yet she hadn't heard of any such tragedies. Even so, she never protested or teased him when he walked her back at night, only telling him how grateful she was for his protection and companionship, which she truly was.

They would say a brief goodnight. That led to a kiss on the cheek, and another, and then their lips seemed to get in the way. In minutes, the idea of staying apart had flown out of the window like so much smoke.

Mornings always came around, and they found themselves in each other's arms, and after a few minutes, or an hour, he was swearing an oath that it would never happen again; that she was evil; that it was all her fault; and that she was, ultimately, out to ruin him. It was as predictable as rewinding a tape recorder.

Oddly, the more he criticized her diabolical ways, the more in love with him she fell. She prayed, with every ounce of hope within her, that the cycle would never come to an end.

"Amelia…" His voice penetrated her train of thought.

"Yes?"

"Before I forget, I came across this in Diagnon Alley the other day. It's just a trinket, but they said it had some protection charm or another."

He held out a ring – an oval opal that burned in the moonlight in a hundred different colors – surrounded what looked like clear, sparkling diamonds.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "It's the prettiest ring I've ever seen."

He slipped it onto her finger and kissed her hand. "I thought you might like it. I don't let you wear anything colorful."

It fit perfectly. She nearly slipped off of the wall as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him recklessly, amid his laughter.

"All right, all right. I doubt it's even real."

"What shop in Diagnon Alley sells these?" she asked thoughtfully.

He merely shrugged. "I don't remember. I was in a hurry."

"I'll never take it off," she said softly.

"I'll hold you to that," he said in an interesting, odd tone of voice.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

At breakfast the following morning, Amelia and Severus were immediately placed at opposite ends of the long faculty table, with about a dozen teachers between them. Albus sat beside her, and Minerva planted herself next to Snape.

Amelia tried to drink a cup of coffee, but this morning, it was completely impossible. Today, it was actually lumpy, with a bitterness she'd never tasted before.

It was as frustrating as it could be. As steadily as she was able to see more beauty around the castle, she was losing her ability to abide the food. If it weren't for fruit, lettuce and a potion Severus had mixed for her, she'd be starving.

Hardly noticing her, Albus studied various papers, muttering to himself, and making notes in the margins. Finally, he looked over at her and smiled.

"Miss Garrett, may I speak to you plainly?" he asked.

"Of course." She pushed the cup as far away as possible.

"Do you have serious feelings for Professor Snape?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

"As in, temporary romance until you return to Kansas - or as in, marriage and children and…putting up with him?"

She smiled. "The latter, sir. I love him very much."

"Truly?"

"Yes. Why is everyone so surprised by that?"

He shrugged and smiled to himself.

She leaned closer to him. "I'm very sorry about the argument, sir. It's an ongoing debate we have. He's so obsessed with magic; he feels it's his entire identity, but he's so much more than that."

"Of course he feels that way, Miss Garrett. He's had a sad, lonely existence until you arrived. Magic is his life, and he has great power. He's very renowned."

"I know, sir, and I'm sorry I offended him. But he's also a brilliant, kind, interesting person – with or without the magic."

Albus paused. "Have you told him this?"

"I've tried. He just feels I'm disrespectful."

"Well, keep trying, but be quite clear that you do respect what he does."

She smiled. "Maybe I haven't been. Nobody respects him more than I do. I'll let him know."

Albus smiled. "Good. You'll be all right. And I'm happy for you two. I truly am. It will be very interesting to see your lives unfold."

"Does this mean the ban is lifted?" she ventured gingerly.

"No, it does not." He looked back at the papers and she shrugged.

When she glanced up, she recognized Severus peering at them suspiciously, and she blushed and smiled. He only frowned and snapped up the morning paper.

Glancing back at her plate, she wanted to try the food, but felt her stomach turn. This morning's fare was worse than ever. The breakfast smelled so rancid, so foul, that she couldn't bear to touch it. And, peculiarly, it was actually blurry to her eyes.

"What's being served today, headmaster?" she asked Albus.

"Just the usual eggs, bacon, porridge and toast," he answered, with a queer glance. "Are you ill, Miss Garrett?"

"No. Well, yes. I need to leave. Excuse me."

She bolted out of her chair and clapped her hand over her mouth, running for the first door she could find.

Thankfully, she found the bathroom in time, but just barely. When she came out, having thrown up what meager food she'd managed to force down the previous night, a cold sweat was beading on her forehead. The nausea had started to subside, but just thinking about the mass of rancid mush on her plate made her want to run straight back into the bathroom again.

To her embarrassment, Severus waited right outside the door.

"What's wrong now?" he demanded, as she nearly ran into him.

Wiping her forehead with her sleeve, she tried to calm down.

"You were sick, weren't you?" he prodded. "Amelia, you're pale as death. Are you coming down with this illness?"

She slumped down on one of the stone benches and cupped her head in her hands, taking deep breaths and trying to forget the breakfast.

"No. It's just the food again. It was worse than ever this morning. I thought I'd force myself to try it, but it was impossible."

He groaned and shook his head in frustration.

"It didn't even look like food. It was some sort of horrid mush. Come to think of it, it looked like the cows' brains I used to see at my friend's butcher shop."

"Lovely."

He eased down beside her and crossed his arms. It was hard to tell if he was angry, or worried, or a mixture of both.

"I know you hate it when I complain about the meals, but if I hadn't left, Severus, I would have been sick all over Albus."

"Good Lord," he murmured. "I thought you'd be getting better and you're getting worse."

Amelia swallowed the lump in her throat and prayed what he said wasn't true, but feared it was. She had so hoped that being able to open up and grieve about her mother would help whatever power she had fall back into line – but if it was, the process appeared to be painfully gradual.

"I was able to see that incantation you did yesterday," she attempted, in faint hope. "It was blurry, but I saw the outline. And I could sense when a stairway was about to move a couple of days ago. I didn't fall."

"That's true," he said tiredly. "I'm mystified. You're so mixed up. You're like a kaleidoscope. I can't keep up from one day to the next."

"Is there some sort of wizard psychologist I could see?" she asked quietly.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. "Oh Amelia, if there were, don't you think I'd have seen one years ago?"

She managed a faint smile. "Well then, I'm doomed. If I try to go to one back home with this issue, they'll lock me up and throw away the key."

"I'd find some way to break you out. You're insane, but I've gotten rather used to it."

Laughing softly, she took his hand. "Professor Dumbledore said trauma could cause things like this, but God knows you went through trauma as a boy, and you didn't lose your powers."

"No, I handled it so much better than you. I became a Deatheater and went around plotting against everyone."

She smiled and he kissed her fingers.

"So you run into a few doors and can't eat the food...at least you didn't decide to follow you-know-who."

"I just hope I'm not getting worse," she said worriedly, clasping his hand. "What if I can't eat anything, and I have to leave…"

"You know I won't let that happen."

They sat in quiet frustration for a few minutes and her eyes began to sparkle a brighter blue as a pleasant, somewhat mischievous thought popped into her mind.

"I suppose it could be morning sickness," she said softly, looking into his eyes.

He reeled backward and actually cracked his head against the wall hard enough to make a good-sized bang.

"Sorry. Just teasing." She smiled and kissed him.

"You'd better be, miss." His voice deepened formidably.

She pressed his hand affectionately. "I would like a baby - some day."

He closed his eyes. "I am begging you not to discuss this now. Begging you."

She blushed. "You're right. Now isn't the time."

"No, it's not."

She paused.

"When would be a good time?" she asked, against her better judgment.

"You're starting again, and I don't care how long you go on; I'll ignore you."

She only blushed deeply. "I don't mean to scare you. I just think about it sometimes. I won't say another word."

He nodded darkly. "Fine. Can we get back onto the subject now?"

"Yes. Of course."

Sighing as if he'd just been given a reprieve from Azkaban, he covered her hand with his and looked down worriedly.

"My dear, you're living on the potion I mixed for you and you can't. I don't want you drinking it much longer. It's meant to be a temporary substitute for food."

"I hate this," she whispered. "I'll have to leave, won't I? I'll have to go, because I'll starve if I don't. I'll have to leave you. I'll die without you, Severus."

"You're not leaving me, I swear to you. There are things I can do – things better left unsaid –"

She wiped a few tears from her eyes and he said nothing further.

"Isn't this the most ridiculous thing?" she said bleakly. "All of the curses, and ghosts, and monsters running around here – and it's the food that finishes me off."

He smiled, this time gently. "I just don't understand how things turned so inside-out with you. I've never known as witch's magic to turn against her. It's supposed to be a blessing, not a curse…something special to enrich the magical world – or to protect it against darker forces."

She looked down. "Some blessing."

"Unless…" His forehead creased deeply and he stood up and raked a hand through his hair. "Oh my God."

"What is it?" she asked desperately, clenching his hand.

He shook his head in utter exasperation.

"Amelia, we've all been so blind – except for you. It's the food."


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"The food?" Albus roared an hour later. "The food tastes fine. That's ridiculous and far too obvious."

Professor Dumbledore, Minerva, Snape and Lupin sat around a heavy, mahogany table in Albus' study.

"Headmaster, I think we have something here," Snape persisted anxiously, leaning forward. "We should at least look into the possibility. Amelia has a peculiar sort of power – sort of a mirror image of itself, but strangely beneficial at times."

Albus clasped his hands together and walked over to the large window behind his desk. "I suppose we could inspect the kitchens; ask who's been there – but I can't understand…there are rigid rules regulating who goes in and comes out. I can't imagine anyone getting past the house elves."

Minerva glanced from one to the other and her lips tightened nervously.

"Amelia might be able to help," Snape offered. "She would be glad to look over the foods. At least then, we could tell what was and wasn't contaminated, and start testing samples for poisons or spells."

"We must be discreet or we'll be warning those behind this," Lupin said thoughtfully. "But I suppose that's a reasonable course of action, Severus."

Minerva sighed and sat back wearily. "How will we eat in the meantime? If we continue eating the food here, more of us will probably get sick. If we don't eat it, whoever is behind this will know we're aware…oh it's so complicated."

Albus smiled faintly. "We can buy a little time if we ask another school for food…"

"Beauxbatons," Lupin exclaimed with an eager nod.

"Oh God, anything but French…" Snape muttered.

Albus cleared his throat. "As I was saying, we could tell the students it was a holiday gift of sorts. Severus, you make something up. You're good at that sort of thing."

Snape stared at Albus in confusion and then just shook his head.

"In the meantime, we could inspect the kitchens, test the foods, and possibly set a trap for the culprit," Albus concluded.

"Sir, I would be happy to set that trap," Snape offered in a soft, even voice. "I have an idea who it is."

"Who, Severus?" Albus asked.

"Malfoy and his friends. They've been after Amelia for weeks, making insinuations that she's the cause of this illness. You've heard their lies, I'm sure. They've hated her since the day she came here."

Albus nodded. "Yes, I have heard. But what motivation would they have?"

Something in Albus' voice, a shred of doubt, perhaps, made both Minerva's and Snape's eyes a little more tense.

"And though I regret it, and certainly mean no offense, I must consider every reasonable possibility - for the school's sake," Albus said, too objectively for comfort.

Minerva and Severus stood up and stared at Albus in shock and dread.

"Amelia has not caused this crisis, sir," Snape said, obviously struggling to contain his emotion. "How can you even consider Malfoy's lies? You know his background."

"I do know his background, but I do not know hers," Albus answered quietly. "And that can be even more dangerous."

Minerva crossed her arms and looked pleadingly at Dumbledore.

"Albus, I assure you, Amelia is a wonderful girl. I've known her since she was in diapers. For heaven's sake, she's my godchild."

"She comes from far away, Minerva, and her father was abusive and cruel, from what you've told me," Albus replied. "Who knows what went on in Kansas – or how it affected her."

But Minerva would have none of it, and her voice gained strength.

"Albus, she's only here because I forced the issue after her mother died. She didn't want to come, and I had to do everything but stand on my head to convince her."

Albus' features softened a bit, but not completely. "You're both probably correct, and I think she's a lovely young woman, but I'm not ready to rule out anything at the moment."

Minerva paused, and her eyes widened in horror. Snape cursed under his breath and turned away.

"Albus, the poor girl can't even cast spells. Her father forbade it, and it did something to her," Minerva argued desperately.

"Be that as it may, the school is closed – locked down. No one may leave and nobody has been ruled out as a suspect. Of course, we will also consider Malfoy, but we cannot ignore the fact that Amelia is a relatively unknown commodity from another country."

"I can't believe you," Snape hissed, snapping back around and ignoring the warning look Lupin tried to give him. "She's as guilty as you are."

Minerva covered her eyes with her hand.

"You trust me, a former deatheater, with hundreds of your students, but you immediately suspect her?" Severus continued. "This is insane."

"Severus, you know little about her, either," Albus said. "You're being blinded by your own feelings."

"My feelings are rarely incorrect," Snape insisted. "Headmaster, I have lived in the darkness and I've done terrible things. But she hasn't an ounce of darkness in her. Don't you think I'd sense it, if anyone here would?"

The tension in the room had become as thick as a heavy, humid day just before a thunderstorm – and they hardly dared to breathe.

"Nevertheless, I do not know," Albus said firmly. "Neither do you."

"I do," Snape insisted, heedless that he'd stepped far outside the bounds of propriety. "She would never do something like this. She loves this school and all of you, though God knows why. How dare you accuse her of this."

"I'm not accusing anyone," Albus replied, a bit more impatiently. "But I'm not ready to dismiss reasonable possibilities, either."

Severus could only stare at him in disbelief.

"You've been like a father to me, sir, and I'll never forget that; but if you let Malfoy, or anyone else, cloud your judgment, I'll take Amelia and disappear. I'll break every rule. I'll do anything – use anyone – to get her away."

"What?" Minerva cried, sinking deeper into the chair. "You, leaving Hogwarts? It's out of the question. You're far too valuable."

Lupin's eyes filled with anguish. "Have you gone completely insane, Severus?"

Unable to contain herself any longer, Minerva burst into tears.

"I can't believe this nightmare," she sobbed. "It's just one problem after the next at this school. Can't we have one year of peace?"

"I've had a good run here, Minerva, and I'll have Amelia," Snape said, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"What you are having is a complete nervous breakdown," Minerva choked. "I'm beginning to wish I'd never brought her here."

"Well, you did, didn't you?" Severus said irritably. "At least she doesn't value me for the powers I have - unlike others I know."

Minerva glared at him. "With those powers comes responsibility. Your duties lay here with us."

With shaky hands, Lupin emptied the brandy decanter into his glass and drained the glass in one gulp. Albus closed his eyes.

More tears fell as Minerva continued. "You need to stop this, Severus. You two can't marry. You're a wizard with a dark history, and she's a very confused…oh, I don't know what she is."

"You know, the more you argue with me about this, the more convinced I am to do the exact opposite of what you say. I'll ask her tonight."

If Minerva's eyes could have killed, Snape would have been laying on the floor in a pool of blood.

"I think it's a match made in Heaven," Lupin remarked. "She's a train wreck, and he's been trouble since his first day of school."

Smiling smugly, Severus leaned back. "She's with me and not you, Lupin, and you can't stand it. To me, that's like a wonderful Christmas present."

Laughing ironically, Lupin took out his pipe. "What elixir did you slip into her tea?"

"Believe that, if it consoles you."

Lupin lit the pipe and sat back thoughtfully. "Wonders never cease. She won't give me the time of day."

"She's smart. Too many poor women have."

"You have a few notches, old friend. Do you really care for her, or are you just trifling?"

"None of your business."

"My, my…it is serious. I thought you only considered true-blue witches."

"I always wind up eating my words," Snape remarked. "But, my God, Lupin, she's so unusual, and do you know what she told Potter?"

"Hmm?" Lupin's eyes gained an amused twinkle.

"She said she would have stood with me against you and Sirius, that day in the shack."

"My goodness." Lupin drew a breath. "She's a keeper. Headmaster, you have to set her free. Even if she's guilty as sin, we can marry them off and be rid of Snape forever."

Albus' eyes glazed over and he sat back down. "We need to get back onto the subject," he said. "We'll accomplish nothing if we're all at one another's throats."

"I love to wind you up, Minerva, even amid all this chaos." Snape sat back down and clasped his hands together, smiling for the first time that evening.

"Marriage or not, any thought of leaving is out of the question," Albus said. "The school is locked down."

"I believe I could find a way around such locks," Snape said softly. "I love her and I won't see her wrongfully accused – and having to endure everything that goes along with that."

"You're getting ahead of yourself, Severus," Lupin attempted. "Really, old friend, we're just being realistic. And, headmaster, Snape has a point. You invited me back, didn't you? I'm certainly not the most stable person. Amelia's no Lucrezia Borgia. I'll watch Malfoy more carefully. We'll see who's innocent and who's not. My money's on Malfoy."

Creases marred Albus' forehead while Snape's eyes glittered madly. Visibly shaken, Albus tugged at his beard.

"We're very upset," Lupin attempted, forcing a smile. "Severus, please, no harm will come to Amelia. We all love her. Why don't we just concentrate on the food and the kitchens for now – and take this one step at a time."

Somehow, Lupin's level-headed remarks seemed to do the trick, and Snape shrugged and said nothing. Minerva, who had never stopped crying, wiped her eyes and managed to calm down.

"Your loyalty is admirable, Severus, and I respect that," Albus finally conceded. "I don't mean to insult Amelia, or you, and I value your judgment, as I always have."

"Then please concentrate on Malfoy," Snape said bleakly.

Sighing, Albus nodded. "I will, and I don't seriously suspect Amelia, either. But, please understand my position."

Taking a deep breath, Snape forced himself to nod, and Albus smiled.

"I'll contact Beauxbatons immediately. Be ready to go into the kitchens," Albus said.

-o -S- o-

During the meeting, Amelia had gone upstairs to check on Hermoine. She was just tying the rubber band around her arm for another blood draw, when Hermoine leaned forward and studied the stone sparkling on Amelia's finger.

"Miss Garrett, what a lovely ring. It's an opal, isn't it?" Hermoine asked, smiling and looking a bit better.

"I'm glad you like it, Hermoine." Amelia smiled, happy to see the change in her demeanor.

"Forgive me, but did Professor Snape give you that ring?" Hermoine asked softly. "I promise I won't tell anybody."

Glancing about the room to make sure she wasn't overheard, Amelia nodded quickly. "Yes."

Hermoine's smile deepened and Amelia blushed and drew the blood sample.

"Miss Garrett, did he tell you anything about that ring?"

She shrugged and untied the band. "Only that he bought it in Diagnon Alley. It's just for fun."

Laughing merrily, Hermoine sank back into the pillow. "He _would_ say something like that. It's a very famous opal, if I know my Hogwarts history, which I do."

Amelia paused. "I really don't think so. He just found it…"

"It's his family's ring. It goes back generations and I read that it has strong power. No one's seen it in years."

Amelia sank down on the edge of the bed.

"Hermoine, are you serious? You know how he is. He practically made it an insult when he gave it to me."

Hermoine laughed and her eyes sparkled for the first time in days.

"I probably shouldn't accept it." Amelia studied it regretfully.

"No, no. Please don't give it back. It would hurt him deeply, and it's actually too late. I don't think it will come off. It fits you perfectly, doesn't it?"

Nodding, Amelia thought for a moment. "What does it mean? I'm enslaved to him or something?"

"I think he should tell you the rest."

Amelia squeezed her hand. "Thank you, Hermoine. I may be ninety by the time I pry it out of him."


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

"Oh my God, this is so delicious," Amelia raved, as she took a huge bite of the incredible roast duck that was set before them that night. "Severus, would you please pass the orange sauce. My goodness, I really have to get the recipe."

"Good Lord," he groaned, and shoved the gravy boat toward her. "Leave some for the rest of us."

Her plate was a piled high with the wonderful French cuisine that had arrived in time for dinner – courtesy of Beauxbatons.

Amelia had never enjoyed a meal so much in her life. There were flaky baguettes, crepes, fresh fruits, delicate sauces, cheeses, fresh greens and vinaigrettes, lovely pastries, cream, onion and turtle soups to die for - and wines fit for royalty.

"Oh my God, it's so amazing…"

"If you say oh my God' one more time…besides, it's not amazing. It's French and they ruin everything with sauces and pretense. Beauxbatons is insufferably arrogant. They just did this to show off."

She laughed so hard she nearly choked on her baguette – to the point where he had to smack her between the shoulder blades.

"Slow down, or I'll take it away," he warned. "I won't have you choking to death and leaving me with that pile of ungraded exams."

Nodding, she coughed a few times more and finally regained her composure. "I'm sorry. I'm really losing control. I can't believe myself."

He smiled briefly and took a reluctant spoonful of his onion soup.

"Do you know how good it is to enjoy food again?" She took a heaping slice of quiche.

"No," he said darkly. "Tell me what it's like."

Her eyes danced because she knew she'd landed on dangerous ground, but he'd been a little more somber than usual this afternoon, so she decided to jump into the quicksand, just for fun.

"I just can't think of anything I've enjoyed more. I really can't, for the life of me."

Innocently, she gazed up into his eyes, knowing exactly how they would appear – and sure enough, they were annoyed.

Deliberately, he leaned back and placed his spoon on the plate, waiting patiently and refusing to let her get out of the predicament she'd put herself in. She sighed and shook her head in defeat.

"You know I'm just joking," she said, squeezing his hand.

"You liar. I'm wounded to the core. All of your talk about beauty and spirituality – crumbling in the face of a soufflé."

Dissolving into more laughter, she could only lean against him. "I wasn't serious."

"You were, but I'm used to rejection."

Blushing, she could only smile and he did, too.

"I do love French cooking," she said dreamily. "My mother spent a semester at Beauxbatons and learned some of their techniques. She could prepare amazing meals when she felt like it. Did you know I'm a quarter French?"

"Please say you're joking."

"It's true."

"That answers a lot of questions."

"You know, as deeply as I'm devastated that you enjoy gluttony more than spirituality, it is good to see you eat something without going green and running off to the bathroom."

"And then hearing you chastise me for being a rude and ungrateful guest," she added.

"Yes," he said seriously. "I hope you forgive me one day. You probably saved us all."

Looking up into his eyes, she found they were actually sincere, and she smiled warmly. "There's nothing to forgive. None of us had any idea."

His face softened and, even in the candle light, his eyes seemed brighter. Suddenly, all Amelia wanted to do was wrap her arms around him.

"I love you," she whispered in adoration.

"I love you, Amelia," he whispered back. "I'll deny it if anyone asks, but I do."

Perhaps it was the richness and romance of the food, or her blood sugar levels finally stabilizing, but her eyes danced crazily, and she stared helplessly into his wonderful face - and simply confessed.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," she whispered.

"Maybe we should put the wine aside."

"I haven't had a drop."

"Then they must have used it in a sauce."

"Do you know what I dream about, Severus?" she asked softly.

"No, and I don't care." His eyes flickered dangerously but she was too far gone to notice.

"May I just tell you?"

"Do I ever have a choice?"

Her eyes had grown enormous and incredibly blue.

"I'd like to marry you, and give my life to you, and die with you."

He smiled tenderly. "Is that all? I thought you were looking for something serious."

But the remark faded on his lips, she was so radiant and beautiful.

"We'll have French food more often," he managed.

Her smile never faded and he finally seemed to catch his breath.

"All right," he said softly. "Why not."

Forgetting where they were, they began to lean toward each other, and their hands intertwined beneath the table.

"Enjoying the food, Mrs. Snape - I mean, Miss Garrett?" came a familiar, taunting voice that seemed to cut through the air like thunder. Snape blinked and sat back wearily.

Amelia took a breath and smiled. "Yes, very much, Harry. Thank you for asking."

"Why don't you go enjoy yours?" Snape said irritably.

"Professor Dumbledore told me to interrupt, sir. You were about to kiss her, and we can't let anyone know that you're engaged. You're not supposed to be sitting together, but he didn't want to cause a scene."

Snape's mouth fell open. "We're not engaged."

"Oh, yes you are, sir."

"How the devil would you know?"

Harry paused, as if he were debating whether or not he should continue, but then he did.

"Well sir, as you know, I'm an extraordinary wizard with extraordinary powers of perception."

Harry laughed, while Snape looked like he would pass out. Amelia had to do everything in her power to keep from bursting into laughter.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

That night, Amelia awoke sometime in the deep hours, when it was stormy and rainy outside and a clap of thunder had just rumbled through the clouds.

To her surprise, Severus was not beside her, but was sitting in a chair near the window, smoking quietly and looking out at the darkness.

"Severus?" she asked softly, and walked over to him, slipping into his lap. "Are you all right? You're not getting sick, are you?" She automatically laid a hand on his forehead, but it was cool, to her relief.

He only smiled. "I'm fine."

"What are you doing up?" she asked.

"Oh, with all of your nightmares…I had one. I actually have them all the time, though not so often these days. I suppose I have you to thank for that."

Smiling warmly, she slid her arm around him and kissed him softly. Although he'd helped her enormously by getting her to open up about her mother's death, she still hadn't broken free of fairly regular nightmares about it. With tenderness and patience, he would always wake her up, take her in his arms, and let her cry, or talk about it. Once they even took a walk from four in the morning until dawn. Now, she was glad to return the kindness.

"Would you tell me about it?" she asked.

He sighed wearily, almost in disgust. "Just horrible flashes of this place…my father…home. The usual. What a mess it all was."

"What was your father like?" she asked quietly, playing with a button on his night shirt.

"A lot like yours, from the sound of it. He wasn't a wizard and he grew to despise me; actually, he despised me from the moment I was born, I suppose. I was a horrible disappointment."

"I'm so sorry," were the only words she could find. "I know how sad that can be. He was so wrong."

"My poor mother must have been somewhat like yours," he added. "Very alone, very sad. And then my father left us."

He reluctantly met her eyes and took a long draw on the cigarette. "I remember you said your father left you and your mother?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, when I was ten, I remember them having a terrible argument. It was actually about wizardry school. He finally told her he couldn't deal with us any longer. We never saw him again."

"What a muggle fool," he muttered. "Making you feel guilty about being magic, when it's such a gift."

"Not for me. It's just a frustrating waste of time."

A look of pity softened his face. "That's true, and it's too bad. Didn't your mother teach you anything?"

"She was afraid to. She did teach me to levitate little things, like my dolls."

"Really? Can you still do it?"

She paused and then shook her head. "No. I'm afraid not."

"Why not?"

She stared at the floor and remained silent, as the memories crept back into her mind, like so many snakes.

"Amelia…" His voice filtered through her thoughts, with that sharper sharper, penetrating tone she dreaded, because it meant he would not stop until he uncovered the truth.

"I guess I didn't practice enough."

"You're lying. Why do you still try to lie to me? I'm so much better at it than you – and I always know."

"All right," she conceded. "When I showed my father, he got really upset." Her throat went dry and she could not speak any further.

Severus' voice tightened. "What did he do, Amelia?"

"Nothing, really. He was always angry."

"Don't do that with me," he snapped. "What did he do?"

She took a deep breath, and pain filled her eyes. "Well, he broke my wrist, yanking the wand away. When my mother tried to intervene, he gave her a black eye that required stitches, and made me throw the wand into the fireplace."

It was silent for a moment and she brushed a few tears from her eyes.

"What did you say his name was?" he asked quietly.

"Never mind."

"Please..."

"No."

"Why the hell did she marry him?" he demanded.

"She loved him. They met in London when she was there with Aunt Minerva and he was there on business. Minerva despised him, but there was nothing she could do. They eloped to America the second after my mother was graduated from Hogwarts."

"And that's when she told him she was a witch?"

"No, she told him right away, but he didn't believe her. It wasn't until after they were married that he began to abuse her, and tell her that witches were evil and burned in Hell, and that she needed to stop using her magic."

"How terrible."

"Yes, it was."

"My dear, please, tell me his name."

She forced a smile and kissed his cheek. "No, but thank you. That's very sweet."

The lines on his face were deep and dark, but he remained silent, and smoked quietly, while she held him tightly and watched the soothing glow of the ember.

"What about you?" she said softly. "How did you ever make it through Hogwarts, with all the torture you endured?"

"Potions, I suppose. I loved them, and I simply buried myself."

She nodded and he pulled her closer, covering her with part of his robe.

"I guess we're all alone in this world," she mused. "The only time I don't feel alone is when I'm with you."

"You'll always have me," he answered softly.

Gazing longingly out into the clouds, she said, "I wish we could have met years and years ago. Wouldn't it have been nice if we'd met here? I'll bet both of our lives would have been much happier. "

"You weren't even born when I started at Hogwarts," he remarked, with a dry turn to his lips.

"Well, I wish I had been. It would have been nice."

"Probably not, for me," he mused. "James or Sirius or Lupin would have snapped you up."

She laid her hand on his cheek. "No. A very special potions prodigy would have interested me far more."

"That's ridiculous." But a smile crept through.

"I would have followed you around, and annoyed you, and sat beside you at lunch, and invited you to dances because you wouldn't have asked me."

He shook his head and buried his lips in her hair. "I believe that's true, as misguided as you are. And your distractions would have prevented me from becoming the magical icon I am today."

She laughed in delight and hugged him. Their eyes met, and he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly on the lips.

"Isn't it strange," he mused. "You go through life for so long, trudging from one day to the next, and then someone comes along, and you don't know how you did it all those years – or how you could exist one day more without that person."

Smiling, her face filled with light. "Aren't you in a strange mood tonight, but I'm flattered – I'm honored."

"Oh, I wasn't talking about you. I just thought it was an interesting idea."

She blushed and shook her head helplessly. "I always walk right into those traps."

He put out the cigarette and drew her close, as their lips met again and again – and a gentle warmth settled over the room.

"Let's get married," he whispered.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"I agreed at dinner, didn't I?" he said.

"Yes, but I thought it was because I was badgering you." She hurried along beside him and Albus, toward the kitchens the following morning.

"Well, you were, but I don't particularly want to take it back."

She could only smile and press his hand, as they made their way down slippery, stone steps. Apparently, there was a magical entrance to the kitchens through a large painting with fruit on it, but after several attempts (and a torn canvas), Amelia had to give up – so they were on a circuitous route through one of the basements.

"I'm so happy," she said dreamily, and Severus looked at her as if she'd finally gone completely insane..

"Headmaster, this is the best day of my life," she went on. "Thank you so much for agreeing to marry us when this is all over."

Albus made some kind of grudging acknowledgement, and Snape smiled darkly.

"It may just be the best day of your life, my dear. I'll make you miserable when we're married, but you're a good assistant and I don't want you to leave."

A wonderful warmth spread through her entire body and she smiled and blushed.

"I'll make you so happy," she whispered. "I'll cook for you, and help you here, and we can have lots and lots of babies."

"You know I'd rather go to Azkaban."

"So would I, right about now," Albus muttered, though nobody was listening.

"Just a few?" Amelia attempted.

Snape frowned. "Go ask Lupin."

"I want you to be the father."

"You're delusional. I'd be a horrible father."

Albus gave an intentionally loud, irritable sigh, and looked at the ceiling.

"I think you'd be a wonderful father."

Suddenly, Albus came crashing to a halt and glared at both of them.

"Stop it, before I kill both of you. Good heavens, you just go on and on…it's unbelievable. Why do I need to perform a ceremony? You're an old married couple, already. I can't fathom how you get anything at all accomplished in the laboratory."

Snape frowned. Amelia caught her breath and winced in humiliation.

"Severus, this is one battle you will not win. You-know-who couldn't win it, so just stop."

Severus frowned and opened his mouth to protest but Albus cut him off.

"And, Miss Garrett, you're tormenting him again, and you know better. No more bickering, either one of you. I'm exhausted already, and we're not even to the kitchens yet."

Albus frowned gravely, and the three of them continued to wind their way down, down, down the stairway. She held the banister in a death grip, trying not to slip, which was not an easy feat.

The kitchens were strictly off limits to most people at the school. They were the subject of incredible tales, gossip, ghost stories and wild speculation. There were whispers of flying butcher knives, crazed chefs, students who would sneak in and never return, freezers with more than just meat inside – and secret passageways to remote and forbidden areas of the castle. Actually, she was thrilled to be going there.

There was only one reason she dreaded going to the kitchens - the food. Bleakly, she wondered if she would be sick. Well, she knew she would be and wouldn't that be dignified – in front of the headmaster and the head of one of the school's houses. She'd taken along a few paper sacks, and tied her hair back in grim preparation.

Severus held out a lantern, but there wasn't much to see but ancient stone walls and the next step. The air smelled of oil, mildew and about 300 years of dampness.

At last, they arrived at the set of heavy oak doors. Albus said a couple of words and the doors swung open with a low groan.

Inside, the kitchens were dim and massive, stretching into distant shadows. Ancient brick ovens roared with fires, sinks lined the walls, and cauldrons, vats and boiling pots were nearly everywhere.

Overhead, hung racks and racks of utensils – every size of spoon, spatula, and even long, wooden sticks, probably for the cauldrons. And those racks sported a collection of knives would have put the dungeons of the Inquisition to shame.

"Good morning, headmaster," said a house elf, emerging from behind a cauldron. "May I help you?"

Albus nodded. "Yes. Professor Snape and his assistant Miss Garrett need a few samples of food for a class."

"A class, sir?"

"Yes, on transforming everyday meals into useful potions. I need access to the pantries and freezers."

Amelia gazed at Albus with a new respect. His effortless ability to lie was surprising, but oddly impressive.

"Of course, sir." The elf led them to another set of double doors and stopped.

"Here we are, sir. This is the main pantry. You'll find most of our dry ingredients here. The meats come fresh everyday, for the most part, but there are some stored in the freezers. The wet ingredients are kept in the pantry over in the far corner."

"Thank you," Albus said, and Snape looked on anxiously, as he noticed Amelia's steadily blanching face.

Already, Amelia was beginning to smell the reeking scents that she'd tried so hard to forget – and smashed a handkerchief against her nose and mouth, though it didn't help much.

The elf removed a large brass key from his apron and inserted it into the lock. Creaking and groaning, the door swung open. Amelia could almost hear the smells spewing forth, and probably would have fallen backward if Snape hadn't braced her.

Outside, the sun was high, but pale through pre-winter haze, allowing very little illumination through the thick, lead-glass window panes.

As Albus was about to step inside, the elf smiled politely at Amelia.

"Oh, Miss Amelia, would you be returning later to see the meats that arrive today? I'm sorry they're here yet. You're usually not here until eleven."

Snape spun around and gaped at the elf, while Amelia froze in place, her mouth open in speechless horror.

"I'm sorry?" she asked distractedly.

"You know, miss. You usually want to see the fresh meats. They're not here quite yet."

The elf smiled respectfully, while she felt the room begin to rock and spin and press in on her. Snape's wand clattered to the floor. From somewhere, she heard Albus' voice crying out – and smelled the ghastly aromas of the foods – and began to remember every minute of the day her mother had died.

"No," she managed. "I've never been here. What are you talking about?"

Before her head cracked against the stone floor in unconsciousness, and before the explosion came - Amelia saw what was probably the worst sight she'd ever seen since the day she'd walked in on her mother that horrible night.

It was Severus' face – his tight lips drawn over clenched teeth – his black eyes filled with agony – his shoulders slumping in hopelessness.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Snape sat behind his heavy, cluttered desk later a few hours later, having cancelled all the day's classes. A couple of candles flickered in the dimness, throwing shadows against the walls and making the lab look more like a dungeon than ever. He could only stare at the many different papers, seeing nothing and feeling nothing, trying to stop the roaring train inside his head.

He scribbled a few words on parchment, stopped and rubbed his eyes, tried to write again, and stopped.

Finally, he swore bitterly, hurled the pen against the wall and lit yet another cigarette. His face was cut from flying dishes and tumbling cookware – and a nasty bump on his head, gleaned from a falling fry pan, hurt like hell.

To his surprise, the classroom door began to squeek open and someone peeked inside. It was Harry.

"Go away," Snape ordered. "Read the note on the door."

But Harry ignored him and walked down the steps to stand before the desk.

"Please, sir, I need to talk to you."

"Get out."

"About Miss Garrett."

Snape's eyes were filled with rage, but he gave a deep sigh and frowned. "What is it?"

"I want to help, sir. I heard about what went on in the kitchens."

"What are you talking about?" Snape's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward.

"I was there looking for a snack, sir, and I just happened to overhear…"

"Damn you and your spying. You think you're emperor of this school, don't you? You weren't looking for a snack. You were following us."

"Think about it, professor. If Miss Garrett didn't do it, how could the elf identify her?"

"She has a twin? Get to the point."

"You'd know immediately if you weren't so upset. A polyjuice potion."

Rubbing his eyes again, Snape shook his head. "It's too difficult to make. Only you and Hermoine do it well. And you two only do it well because you've broken the rules and tried it on your own."

"We have not."

"Yes, you have."

"Malfoy probably can make it."

Snape paused and then stamped out the cigarette. Harry fell silent and looked him squarely in the eyes.

"Have you checked the potions closet lately, sir? Miss Garrett keeps an inventory, doesn't she?"

Snape stood up. "I haven't been there for awhile."

"Why don't we check it? Maybe some of the ingredients are missing."

Snape leaned forward suspiciously. "_We_?" he drawled. "What's your interest in this, Potter? Why the hell should you care?"

Harry smiled easily. "I like her, sir. Besides, if I help get her out of this mess, you'll marry her, and possibly move far away, or at least be in a better mood during my last year. I've heard your seventh-year class is killer, and I want to pass it and graduate."

Snape chuckled ironically. "Better mood? Do you know how many children she wants? I'll make you-know-who look like an archangel."

Harry's smile broadened.

"All right, come and help me. But I'd probably pass you no matter what happened. I don't want you here one minute longer than you have to be."


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"The kitchen is gone."

Those were the first words Amelia heard, as she groped her way back to consciousness. At some point, she realized she was laying on a cot, in an empty, stone chamber, staring at a stark, vaulted ceiling. There were no mirrors, paintings, rugs or furnishings - just a small table, a pitcher and glass, and a candle burning beside her bed.

Her head pounded in pain, and she eventually realized that her mouth, face and throat were sticky with caked blood.

The room had a narrow door, and no windows.

In the swirl of her thoughts, she wondered if this was it: Azkaban. The terror of the wizardry world: Hell.

It figured. Her father had always threatened that she'd wind up in Hell. Maybe he was right. Maybe everyone back home was right.

Or, perhaps she was lying in the psychiatric ward of her old hospital. Maybe she'd never left Kansas and the last few months were all a psychotic episode sparked by her mother's death. But didn't those rooms have plaster walls and windows and electricity? She couldn't quite remember.

Amelia had never suffered from migraines, but now she felt as if an axe had split her skull in half, and her throat was dry as a handful of cotton balls.

Slowly, she noticed a figure in one corner of the room, draped in black. Distractedly, she realized she, too, was wearing black, though her skirt was torn, speckled with blood and dust, and crumpled like tissue paper. The figure approached and leaned over her.

"The kitchen is gone," he repeated coldly. "We're all lucky to be alive."

She blinked away the blurriness and realized she knew this person, from the unique sound of his voice.

"You've done nothing but cause pandemonium since the moment you arrived. Now, the kitchen is in ruin."

"May I have some water?" she managed.

Taking the pitcher, he carelessly sloshed a glassful into the cup and smacked it onto her bed stand, probably spilling half. Gratefully, she drank it in two long gulps.

Watching her like she was prey, he folded his arms across his chest and waited.

"I trusted you, fool that I am." His voice was low and, she could sense, just barely under control.

"I didn't do any of this," she insisted.

"I worshipped the ground you walked on. The first half of my life was a disaster. Did you really have to ruin the last half?"

"I didn't do it, Severus."

He cursed and turned away.

"Not that you'll listen." She sat up and her eyes began to glitter in frustration. "I should have known you'd turn your back when things got rough. You're as bad as all the matrons back home, telling me I'm strange, and judging…"

"How dare you," he said in pure hatred. "I, of all people, have never judged you."

By the death in their voices, there was no doubt they were both in earnest. His face darkened in a mixture of pain and confusion. She began to cry and covered her face with her hands. Reluctantly, he walked over and sat down beside her.

"Amelia, we should discuss this."

"Discuss what? How terrible I am? People have been judging me since I can remember. I may be going to prison, but I don't have to listen to the man I love accuse me of poisoning innocent children."

He threw up his hands. "Then who did this? Your twin? A doppelganger? The house elves are not capable of lying. One recognized you, as plain as day."

Her eyes filled with indignation. "Why do you belabor this? I know it's hopeless. Why are you here?"

He shook his head. "I don't know."

Struggling to catch a full breath of air, she could only shake her head. "I could be in Topeka now, doing good work in the hospital, but Aunt Minerva just had to have her way. Good Lord, one day I'm in Kansas reading charts and taking vital signs; and the next, I'm being sentenced to Dante's Inferno."

His gaze sharpened and her nerves stood on edge.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you weren't reading charts and taking vital signs. You were lying in a hospital bed because you'd blown up your own home after your mother's suicide."

Silence fell on the room like a new explosion. Her heart nearly stopped as the nauseating truth of his words filled the air and hung there like fog.

"And, I believe there was the matter of your father, who condemned and abandoned you both simply for being who you were. And don't forget the town matrons. Perhaps Kansas wasn't so ideal."

Biting her lip, which was already split, she wrenched her head away, in pain.

"You're right," she finally whispered.

"You're damned right I'm right."

More silence surrounded them. She finally brought herself to look into his clouded eyes and managed a weak, but grateful smile.

"I shouldn't have said those things," she said softly. "I'd probably be dead or in a mental institution now, if it weren't for you."

His lips twisted. "You needn't go that far."

"No. It's true." She took his hand. "You've been so kind to me, and I've only taken from you. I owe you my life, and now I can't repay you, because I'm going to prison."

"Please, Amelia, I hate it when you go on like this. It's worse than your nagging. "

Now that she could see clearly, she realized he looked like he was two steps from the grave - dark, blotchy, disheveled, cut up, grim.

He covered her hand with his. "I don't keep a ledger. We don't owe each other."

"I still feel terrible. I've ruined your life." She began to cry. He put one arm around her and then sighed irritably.

"All right, I may have exaggerated. It might not be completely ruined."

"Yes it is."

He shrugged tiredly. "I haven't exactly been suffering. You've helped me a great deal in the lab."

"So I can grade papers and measure ingredients…big deal."

"Now you're feeling sorry for yourself."

"I'm chained to a wall. I have a right to feel sorry for myself."

"Well, you may have a point, but there must be some other shred of goodness in you. Let's see…you're not bad to look at, especially when you're not caked with blood and soot – and your nose isn't running like it is now."

"You're not making me feel better," she muttered.

"Let me finish. Hmm. What good have you done? It's a very difficult question. Wait, I'm really trying, I really am…"

"Just go away…" She covered her face with her hand, but she was fighting a smile.

"Oh, I know. Our nights haven't been bad. I'd give you a B-minus; well, perhaps a C-plus."

"Oh my God, I'm not listening to this." She rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. He laughed at his own cleverness and pulled her back around.

"You're so horrible," she attempted, but couldn't hide her smile. "Why is this happening? I didn't ask for much. I just wanted what many women want - a decent husband and a few children."

"This is so sad, like something out of Hugo. Please, go on."

She knew he was enjoying this, but she was too far gone to stop herself.

"Do I choose a nice doctor back home? Not me."

"No. Not poor Amelia."

"I fall head over heels in love with a dour, semi-evil wizard who gives me a C-plus in lovemaking, when I'm working as hard as I can and doing everything I know to make it as wonderful as possible…"

Glumly, she cupped her face in her hands, while he barely stifled his laughter, which only made her more frustrated.

"What about me?" he argued. "Not only do I discover that the love of my life is evil, but she tells me she'd rather be with a muggle doctor in Kansas. I knew it all along."

"Get out. Why did you even come here - to torture me?"

"Why shouldn't I torture you? You're poisoning us all and I'm upset."

"You know that's not true. It's just your latest excuse to give me a hard time."

He paused and studied her carefully. If she'd had the energy, she would have blushed in mortification, but she was too wiped out.

"Please, don't look at me," she murmured.

"You look all right." He sat closer and she looked sadly up at the ceiling.

"We were close, weren't we?" she asked quietly. "I'd even managed to trap you into a proposal."

"No one traps me, Amelia."

She brushed the tears away with her free hand. Then she saw the beautiful ring, and her throat contracted again.

"I…suppose you'll want your ring before I'm off to Azkaban. I swear I loved wearing it. I was so proud. Hermoine told me it was a family heirloom. I'm so sorry I dishonored it."

His face creased with pain and she felt more tears wash over her face.

Admiring it for a few seconds longer, she reluctantly held out her hand. He only took it in his, and kissed her fingers.

"It's meant for you. I won't take it back, ever."

He bent over and took her in his arms, pulling her as close as the chain would allow.

"Severus, will you do me a favor?" she whispered.

"I don't think so, judging by the sound of your voice," he answered darkly.

"I'm afraid of that prison."

"You're not going."

"You once said you mixed yourself a poison. If I'm sentenced…"

She actually saw moisture well in his black eyes and he gaped at her in horror. He jerked back and glared at her in hatred.

"All of your sanctimonious lectures about self-worth – and off you go, ordering up death at the first problem that comes along? I've been on the brink for so long…that would kill me, Amelia."

She was in too much pain to respond at all intelligibly, but looked into his eyes and saw acute misery.

"I'd rather die than go to Azkaban."

"You won't go there, I promise you. There are things I can do. There are people I still know who…owe me certain favors."

Burying her head in his shoulder, she broke into more sobs and held onto him for dear life.

"Amelia," he smoothed her hair and kissed her softly, "we're both ranting. I won't talk about prison or poisons. I believe you, heaven help me. I always have."

She smiled brokenly. "Thank you. I swear I'm innocent."

"I know you are."

"What about that truth potion? I could take it," she offered.

He smiled gently. "That potion is off limits, and it has terrible side effects. You're not going to have to do anything so drastic."

Nodding gratefully, she squeezed his hand.

"Besides, you smashed the vials when you had that breakdown in the closet. I suppose dozens of mice and spiders are telling one another their innermost secrets right now."

Crazily enough, she laughed and he did, too.

"I've been such a burden," she whispered.

"That's not true. Everyone loves you except me."

"Yes, well, one day I'll win you over." She closed her eyes tiredly and felt his lips on her cheek.

"We'll live through this," he said softly. "You'll have your ten children, I'll be miserable, and we'll be a normal family."

Her eyes regained a trace of hope.

"Harry, of all people, had an idea and it's a good one. Someone may be using Polyjuice Potion to impersonate you."

"What?"

"It's a special potion used for impersonation. Oh, by the way, would you like a croissant? I pilfered two for you."

Smiling, she sat up in bed and kissed his cheek. "You're amazing," she whispered. "Now that I think about it, I'm starving."

He removed the wonderful, somewhat flattened, croissants from his cloak pocket and she accepted them gratefully.

"These are heavenly," she said, as she took a bite. "You're a saint. You really are. I know I look as guilty as the devil himself, but you're sticking by me – and bringing me croissants."

"Well, you may be the devil, but it's no fun without you."

She laughed and her eyes began to regain their life, and her face, its rosy glow.

"This is the most ridiculous situation," she said, laughing in what might have been pre-hysteria. "I'm too dazed to know what's real and what's not."

Nodding, he seemed to understand perfectly.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

With a loud boom, the door flew open and Albus and Lupin burst inside.

"You're not supposed to be here, Severus," Albus said, catching his breath.

"That's why this is the first place we came when we couldn't find you," Lupin needled, hanging behind Albus like he was 15 years old.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "What are you going to do, Albus, send me to the dungeons? You have her so terrified of Azkaban, she asked me to mix her poison."

"That's enough, Severus. We've all lost our heads," Lupin said, struggling to stay calm.

Albus scowled deeply but Snape continued.

"Chaining her to the wall like Lupin during a full moon…aren't you the one who once told me innocent before proven guilty?" Snape demanded.

"You're one step from being dismissed, Severus," Albus said angrily. "I am headmaster here. You'd best remember that."

Severus looked down and tried to compose himself. "Headmaster, I'm convinced she didn't do it. Potter thinks it's someone using polyjuice potion. Malfoy's a good candidate."

"I know what he thinks. He came to me," Albus said.

Lupin nodded thoughtfully. "We need to set the trap soon - tomorrow. If those involved find out Amelia is being confined, they probably won't appear. We should reinstate the normal food, allow Amelia out in public so everyone thinks things are fine, and then set the trap in the kitchen, or what's left of it."

"What if this mystery person doesn't appear, Severus?" Albus asked darkly.

"Amelia is innocent."

Albus nodded. "You truly believe her, don't you?"

"I do."

"To what depths do your loyalties reach, Severus?"

"What are you implying, sir?"

"I mean - do you believe in her enough to marry her now, before you know, for a fact, she's innocent?"

"Is that a challenge?" Snape's words were bitten off at the roots.

Lupin groaned and rested his head against the wall.

"It shouldn't be a challenge, if you believe her so sincerely."

Helplessly, Lupin raised his eyes to the heavens. Amelia sat, frozen in shock.

"Then by all means, let's proceed." Severus' eyes glittered defiantly. "Marry us, right now."

Amelia's mouth fell open. Lupin cried out in shock.

"What? Isn't this a little sudden?" Lupin exclaimed.

"You know it's inevitable," Snape replied irritably.

"What about the engagement, and a party?" Lupin complained.

Ignoring him, Snape continued to glare at Albus. "Let's go ahead. The bond will help me watch over her all the better."

Lupin just shook his head again and again. "Good God, you watch her like a hawk. You're like Siamese twins. Don't you want a proper ceremony? The faculty will feel snubbed - and what about a cake?"

Continuing to ignore him, Snape stood up, and faced Albus. Amelia managed to stand as well, her chain clanking.

"Marry us now, Albus. It will give her hope, and show you how much I believe in her."

"What do you think, Amelia?" Albus asked her. "You have a say in this."

Snape's eyes focused on her intently. She merely took his hand and smiled enthusiastically.

"Headmaster, I think it's a wonderful idea. I know you suspect me, but it would be an honor to have you officiate, and I swear to you my innocence. Even if I do go to prison, at least I'll have had the privilege of being married to him for a little while."

"A little while? Miss Garrett, marriage is serious business here. There are vows, once made, that cannot be broken. If you go to Azkaban, he will also, in effect. He'll feel a great deal of your misery."

"She knows that, headmaster," Snape interrupted.

"I didn't know that," Amelia countered. "Severus, I don't want you to feel the misery of that place. That would be horrible. Headmaster, I couldn't live with myself if he…"

"Please, Amelia, stop. I'll get him an exemption," Albus pleaded. "Severus, are you certain you want to do this? You can't break the vows, either. And, no offense, of course, but she's rather a handful."

Severus nodded and looked down while Amelia's eyes clouded.

Albus turned to her. "Amelia, if you marry him, you will be bound to him for life, and unable to harm him – or yourself. Do you truly want that?"

She nodded. "Yes, more than anything in the world."

"You'll have to protect him, and he'll gain certain powers to protect you."

"I understand, sir."

Scanning her from head to toe, Lupin frowned disapprovingly.

"But she's chained to the wall, and her clothes are dirty and bloody. My God, I've never seen her out of that black garb. And look at her hair - it's a horrible mess."

Snape clamped his hand around Lupin's throat and slammed him against the wall.

"Regrettably, it appears you are the best man, so stop this nonsense and stand up for me."

Adjusting his collar, Lupin nodded.

Amelia looked over at Lupin and smiled warmly.

"Professor Lupin, please don't worry. I love black, and this dress means a great deal to me. Besides, my ring isn't bad." She displayed the glowing opal and he smiled.

"Not bad at all. Severus does have a bit of taste, especially in women. It's not too late to choose me, though. I'm nicer, and being a werewolf has its benefits." Lupin hugged her and she laughed again.

"Let us know when you've finished," Snape muttered.

"You're the prettiest bride I've ever seen. Snape's never had any luck in his life – but I know now it's just been piling up for the day you arrived."

Lupin kissed her cheek and she hugged him tightly, fighting more tears, while Severus frowned and looked at the ceiling.

Albus drew out his pocket watch, which was attached to a long, gold chain. He looped the chain around their wrists and pulled it tight. Lupin brought the candle around and Albus began.

The ceremony was brief and simple, but somehow, the most beautiful in the world - glowing and serene. They lit the solitary candle, Albus spoke solemn and beautiful words about marriage and its significance, had them repeat vows, laid the wand on both their heads, and let them kiss. Albus smiled, untied the chain, and pronounced them married.

Lupin dabbed his eyes and shook Snape's hand, and Amelia hugged Albus tightly.

She slipped her hand into Severus' and smiled up to him. "I'm sorry I started talking about poisons."

He nodded. "…a rather drastic way to snare me into marriage."

"I'm going to make you so happy," she whispered. "If I don't wind up in…"

"Don't say it. Trust me. I'm your husband now."


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"Well, isn't this the wedding night dreams are made of."

Snape stared gloomily into space, as they attempted to lay together in the claustrophobic darkness of her cell, each trying not to edge the other off of the narrow cot.

Only the wedding candle, which still burned from their ceremony, illuminated the room, casting strange, beautiful shadows on the walls.

Amelia laughed and kissed him. "It's a wonderful night. I can't believe you actually went through with it."

"I can't either, but Albus backed me against a wall and I weakened."

Her eyes darkened. "I'm sorry you had to give him your wand for the night."

He took a deep breath. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does. It was a beautiful gesture." Her voice was warm and dreamy.

"Amelia, you insist on harboring these altruistic notions about me. It was purely for sex. Relinquishing the wand was the only way he'd let me stay with you."

"Of course, how silly of me." She began to glow, even in the dim light of the candle. Oddly, it hadn't stopped burning since the wedding, yet it wasn't a bit smaller.

She kissed him for what must have been the hundredth time that evening. "I guess Albus was telling the truth during the ceremony. I do feel more connected to you. I always did, but this is a new feeling. I can't explain it. "

He smiled vaguely. "They say that happens."

"Do you think I'll become dark and scary, like you, now that we're one person?"

He drew her as close as possible without yanking the chain too taut. "No, not in a million years. There's too much light in you."

The tenderness in his voice made her throat contract, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"When this is over, we can go to my house for Christmas. It's yours now. I know you'll love it."

"That will be wonderful," she mused. "I can't wait to see all of the ghosts and monsters."

He smiled, almost sadly. "They may be all we see. We're going to be very alone, my dear. I haven't a friend in the world."

Amelia leaned over him and shook her head. "I don't feel alone with you. When I met you, it was the first time I ever felt really close to someone."

"I can't fathom that."

"I told you I never fit in; everyone thought I was bizarre."

"They were fools," he said bitterly. "But wizards can be just as judgmental and prejudiced. I was a victim of that and went on to become one of the worst offenders."

"I'm not going to let you rip into yourself tonight. We all make mistakes." She kissed him recklessly and stretched, nearly tumbling over the edge. Luckily, he caught her arm in time.

"I'm sorry our ceremony was a bit simple," he said.

"It was beautiful."

"It was in a prison cell, Amelia."

"Well, it was the nicest prison cell in the world."

He chuckled. "And don't listen to Lupin's drivel. Your dress was perfect. What's a little blood and dirt?"

"Yes, what does he know?"

He laughed warmly and kissed her hand.

"I guess we've come a long way in a very short time," she mused. "When did you decide you didn't want to kill me?"

"Oh, it was never that bad. I liked you right away."

She could only laugh and blush. "Yes, I could tell, by how warm and effusive you always were. I was the only one who could keep my feelings completely in check. "

They both melted into laughter and he smiled to himself.

"I'll deny this if you try to use it against me, but when you were standing on that platform in London, Amelia, and I saw you, I was finished. And, when you were botching potions and falling down staircases, did I recoil in disgust like I should have?"

"Well, yes," she murmured.

"No. I wanted to do a lot of things I won't spell out, and it only got worse from there."

Smiling dreamily, she nodded in agreement. "I felt the same way. When I met you in London, I just knew. That was all. I just knew."

"I knew, too. I should be sainted for making it to Halloween."

"I was talking about feelings, Severus; not lust, like you."

"Yes, you hate every minute of it."

"I do my duty, out of respect for you."

He literally shook with more laughter and she frowned.

"You're the one with the feelings, Amelia. It's always been lust with me."

She nodded. "Well, then, you must be quite disappointed. I only rate a C-minus."

Very deliberately, she made her eyes large and mournful, and his smile quickly turned into an annoyed frown.

"You're not going to let that one go, are you? Not until I grovel and raise your grade."

"Well, it would be a start."

"All right, I apologize. C-plus it is, and no more negotiating or I'll deduct points."

She smiled and kissed him recklessly, but then a dark thought flickered in her mind, and her eyes lost their luster.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently.

She hesitated. "This may be our last night together."

"No, Amelia, this will be the first of thousands. Let's go back to our lust discussion."

But he could see her darkening eyes, and the tears that threatened like a thunderstorm. Desperately, he rushed on.

"All right, as much as I hate to bring this up, what about names…what would you name the ten children? What if the first one were a boy?"

She only shrugged. "None of this matters…"

Taking her hands in his, he looked urgently into her eyes. "Amelia, please. You have to try."

She noticed his hands were shaking, and the desperation in his voice cut straight to her conscience, and she knew he was right. Steadying herself, she took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears. "I'm sorry. I love you so much. You're trying so hard."

"Then meet me half way. Please."

She nodded and tried to concentrate. "All right. I would name him Severus,' I suppose. I can't think of any for the others. You choose."

He smiled. "I have no idea."

"I thought you hated the idea of babies."

"Of course I do. I'm betting that after one, especially if it's a horrible boy named Severus,' you won't want more."

Laughing tiredly, she could only shake her head.

"And, Amelia, during the day, while the dementors look after the children, we can work together and refine your power. You'll be able to see how wonderful your gift really is - without blowing up houses and kitchens."

Remorsefully, she looked away. "I'm sorry. I was really upset."

"Strangely enough, my dear, some people who become upset just swear, or pound on a wall."

She laughed and nodded. "Would you really help me untangle all that?" Her eyes went their deepest blue.

"I'd love nothing better. You have incredible potential. You could contribute so much. I know you could."

Blushing, she nodded and felt his arms draw her nearer.

"I have a surprise for you," he said, in a gentle voice he rarely used, that made her take particular notice.

"You do?"

He nodded. He reached into his shirt pocket and brought out a couple of small velvet sacks and a vial, and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Come over here," he said, and she managed to move over and sit beside him.

Taking her water glass in his hand, he filled it nearly to the top while she looked on. She slipped her free arm around his waist and waited in anticipation.

"First, I add these ingredients…" He emptied the two sacks into the water and they began to bubble. "Then, I add one of your tear drops..."

"Tear drops? Where did you get them?"

"I saved a few. It wasn't difficult; you cry all the time."

"I didn't give you permission," she grumbled.

"I never ask permission. Give me your hand."

Frowning, she nevertheless complied, and he dipped it into the glass for just a moment.

Bubbles frothed and fizzed, and suddenly vanished.

He smiled mysteriously. "Look into the glass when it clears. And if you tell me you can't see it, I'll leave you. "

Peering down and concentrating as hard as she could, she first saw fog, then clear liquid, then the liquid turning from clear to a luminescent green, and then, with a poof, to blue.

Her forehead creased. She'd seen this blue before. It was her favorite shade, but why was it so familiar? Then, it dawned on her. It was a blue she hadn't seen in months, and she covered her mouth with her free hand. It was Kansas in a cup – the blue sky only a Kansas day could make. A second later, a few puffy clouds appeared, along with a bright, autumn sun.

"Oh my God, Severus…" She didn't know what else to say, but felt tears rushing down her cheeks. "This is the nicest gift anyone has ever given me."

He kissed her, and then took the cup and flung the contents against the opposite wall. In a flash, the wall was blue, with puffy clouds, and a bright sun.

"I finally perfected it," he said softly. "Now, when things are too dreary here, you can always have your Kansas sky."


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Severus' wedding gift did the trick. Amelia was finally able to get to sleep, and didn't awaken until a soft knocking sounded at the door the next morning.

Of course, the windowless room was dark, but for the continual light of the candle, and Severus sighed and threw on a robe, blinking tiredly as he walked over to the door.

"Good morning, Severus," Albus said quietly. "We are ready. Breakfast as usual, I'll announce the return to normal food, and we can prepare for the kitchens."

Amelia sat up, smiling at Albus as he stood at the entrance, trying not to avoid looking directly at either one of them.

"Good morning, professor," she said brightly.

"Good morning, Amelia," he answered. "Are you ready for this? It could be a difficult day."

Reluctantly, she nodded. "I guess I'm ready as I'll ever be."

"Good. And, I want you to know at the onset, I have every belief in you. I hope you understand we haven't meant to mistreat you these past few days."

"I do, sir. Thank you again for the lovely ceremony."

He smiled and unlocked her shackle. "I'm sorry you had to be chained up last night."

As soon as the words left his lips, he blinked and looked down, a bit of pink entering his cheeks. Amelia's eyes sparkled and she glanced at Severus, who also looked down, smiling.

"It's all right, sir," she managed, squeezing her lips tight to stifle the widening smile.

But her eyes couldn't help themselves and met Severus', and his eyes met hers, and they both burst into laughter.

Albus crossed his arms and frowned. "Let's get to breakfast."

-o -S- o-

"Good morning," Albus said formally, standing before the students just a few minutes later. "Enjoy this breakfast, because, unfortunately, it is our last Beauxbatons meal. Their generous gift has come to an end, and we'll be back to the usual fare at lunch. I'm sure we all appreciate the wonderful present they sent and each of you is to write them a thank-you note by noon."

The students groaned, and some applauded, because they were tired of French food; and they began eating their meals.

Amelia picked listlessly at her own omelet, though it was beautiful and fluffy – and tried to enjoy the French coffee, though this morning, it had lost a lot of its rich flavor.

Quickly surveying the rows of students, Amelia noticed Draco, buttering a croissant and talking to his neighbors. She tried not to stare, in case he glanced up and saw her observing him – but unfortunately her eyes lingered a little too long, and he glanced her way. When their eyes collided, he merely offered a chilling, half-smile and returned to his conversation. She nodded and looked down at her plate.

Soon, the students began to file out, and the talking in the hall began to fade. Draco and his friends had departed, along with the rest.

"It's eight o'clock," Albus said to the three of them. "We'll meet in the kitchens at ten, sharp. Bring your invisibility cloaks and your wands. Amelia, you'll wait in your quarters. We'll be needing you later."


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

Snape, Lupin and Albus waited silently in the kitchen, two hours later. It wasn't as much of a war zone as it had been the day before. Some repairs had been completed – enough to get the ovens up and running and the rubble cleared away.

Because they had entered wearing the invisibility cloaks, none of the elves were aware of their presence. That was precisely what Albus wanted – everything as routine and undisturbed as possible.

The elves went about their business as usual, bustling about, preparing for the noon meal. Vegetables began to arrive from the fields, plates were washed and stacked, cauldrons were scoured and then fired up to prepare the soups.

The minutes ticked by like small bits of eternity, and Lupin, Snape and Albus kept watch from various vantage points. Lupin was by the entrance; Snape, by the meat lockers; and Albus, near Snape. All eyes were on the doors.

-o -S- o-

While this was going on, Amelia could only sit glumly, re-shackled to the wall, praying every prayer she knew for their safety, and for this misery to come to an end. Her room was horribly silent. The walls must have been so thick it was impossible for sounds to come through.

It must be eleven by now, she thought. It seemed like days or weeks had gone by. Thoughts and worries kept revolving through her thoughts as if they were on a ferris wheel.

Would Draco appear? Had he found out about their plan? She battled to think of other things, as Severus had tried with her – baby names, making love to him, memories of the fun they'd had – but it was next to impossible.

At some point, whether it was a minute or an hour later, her doorknob clicked, and clicked again. She looked over in anticipation, nearly forgetting to breathe, and wondering if everything were over. Was this the end? Either victory, or a trip to some kind of nightmarish tribunal, and then, to Azkaban?

"Good morning, Miss Garrett," rippled a smooth, familiar voice, familiar, yet too young to be any of the professors.

Amelia could only stare, in horror, at Draco.

"What are you doing here?" she managed, struggling to keep her voice calm, but blinking in shock.

Draco stepped inside and smiled coldly. She hadn't realized how tall he was, and it only added to the dread she felt.

"You all think you're very clever, don't you?" he went on. "The Beauxbatons plan was very good, but I knew there was something suspicious about it, and your eyes told me the rest this morning."

"I knew it was you," Amelia said hatefully. "How could you poison all of those students? They were your friends."

He smirked. "Friends? There's no such thing. They're my competition."

"--But taking their powers away, forever?"

"Oh, the poison will wear off in a year or two. Long after your time, and well after I'm out of here and working for…a very good cause."

"You can't be serious, after all they've done for you here. You've gone insane. Draco, you need help…"

"You're the insane one, and everyone knows it. That's what makes my plan so brilliant. You botch everything you touch; you make a fool of yourself everyday. When everyone here finds out that you were behind the poisonings, they'll take it completely in stride. Most of them suspect you already."

Perhaps it was best not to argue, a little voice told her, from somewhere deep inside – certainly not her brain, which was reeling. Better to buy more time by letting him continue to boast. Amelia forced herself to remain silent, and he went on.

Maybe, just maybe, he didn't know she and Severus had married. She would keep it that way and concentrate her hardest to somehow get through to Severus. Perhaps that marriage bond would do some good.

"Professor Snape always thought I would be the next great potions master. Then you arrived, he didn't have time for any of us. When he made us clean your joke of a chemistry lab, I knew you'd turned him against me. With you exposed and gone, he'll soon realign his priorities."

"He'll never realign them, Draco, no matter what you do to me. He loves me."

Unfazed, Draco only gave her another cool smile. "Don't flatter yourself. He'll forget you in a week, just as he has others who have come and gone."

Indignation burned inside of her and the temptation to tell him of their marriage was so overwhelming it was nearly impossible to resist, but Amelia forced herself to hold back.

"Don't be angry with me, Miss Garrett. It's for the best; and, really, I'm making you famous in history annals: the mudblood who infiltrated Hogwarts, hypnotized Professor Snape, and poisoned the students. That should make them think twice about admitting more mixed-breed peasants."

Concentrating even harder, clutching her ring, and trying to cry out in her mind, she felt dizziness and disorientation clawing at her. To make matters worse, something else seemed to be permeating the room. Something wreaking, and releasing putrid vapor into the air.

From behind his back, Draco drew out a small goblet and smiled pleasantly. Nausea nearly overcame her, and she sank back onto the bed.

"You're going to drink this treat, Miss Garrett. Right after you write your suicide note, admitting that you poisoned the students because your father convinced you magic was evil."


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Snape glanced at his pocket watch for what was probably the twentieth time in the last five minutes.

It was already several minutes past eleven, with no sign of Amelia, or Draco or anyone unusual. Just the damned elves. God, it was hot. Were they steaming the ovens? What the hell was going on? Wasn't it December, and weren't the rooms usually cold and clammy?

Sweat beaded on his brow and began to drip down his neck. Perhaps it was the cloak, but that was so light and airy, it didn't make sense. And the kitchens hadn't seemed warm when they'd entered.

His head was beginning to pound, and every nerve in his neck and shoulders had tensed into what felt like a single, tight bundle.

Closing his eyes, he began to wonder if he were coming down with the illness. But no, it felt different. An odd, horrible feeling of dread crept over him, from the pit of his stomach to the tips of his fingers. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong and Amelia was in trouble. How he sensed this, he didn't know.

Creeping over to Albus, he could barely focus his eyes, as he whispered to him.

"Headmaster, I have to go. Amelia needs me."

"But the plan…"Albus said hastily. "You can't go."

"I think she's in danger."

"Why? Did you have a vision, Severus?"

"No, I just feel it. I can't explain. My head is about to explode."

"She could be trying to ambush you, Severus - divert your attentions from the kitchen – and do us all harm."

"Damn it, don't you think I know all of the possibilities? I just know I have to go check on her. You're the one who married us. Perhaps all that bond' nonsense is true."

Thoughtfully, Albus nodded. "Very well, but I want you to know that Amelia is being watched. If you try anything to help her escape before this is cleared up; if you do anything at all against the welfare of this school…you will be stopped."

"I have to go." Severus raced up the stone steps to the entrance of the kitchen, and out the door.

-o -S- o-

"I'll never drink that poison," Amelia said miserably. "You'll have to strangle me to get it down. You'll leave marks, and they'll know someone murdered me."

"You'll do exactly what I say." Draco smiled confidently.

"No, I won't," she insisted, surprised, even at herself. Why she was being so forceful was beyond her – and it was ludicrous. She was shackled, and entirely at his mercy. But something inside of her refused to drink that potion. She just couldn't. She knew she couldn't, unless she was physically forced.

"I'm using a wonderful spell that will come in particularly handy," Draco added.

"No…" she begged. "Don't make me drink it, Draco. Please. I'll leave Hogwarts; anything you want…"

Draco lifted his wand. "Imperio."

There was some kind of flash from his wand, and she fell down on the floor, her wrist snapping and nearly wrenching out of the shackle.

She didn't know how much time had passed when she opened her eyes, but now her head was nearly splitting apart with pain. A horrible, acrid smell hung in the air, as she struggled to clear her mind.

What in the world was Imperio?' It was some kind of spell, she vaguely remembered. The Hogwarts spells were all in Latin, for some reason, and she remembered that the Imperius' spell was bad. Yes, it was very bad, and it was very forbidden.

Vaguely, she recalled that Severus had explained the forbidden spells to her one night when she'd pestered him into telling her ghost stories. There were three of these curses, but which one was Imperius?'

Her mind was swimming, but she forced herself to concentrate. Let's see, she wasn't dead, so it wasn't the death curse. Severus had said another curse was some kind of spell that forced the victim to relinquish total control to the wizard. If she remembered her college Latin correctly, imperio' meant something like rule,' or control,' so that was probably the curse he'd meant.

Still dazed, she looked back over to Draco, and saw him scrutinizing her. Perhaps, for once in her life, her ridiculous, inside-out powers were doing a little good.

She didn't feel any different, so maybe, with any luck, the curse had somehow bounced off of her. Would he be able to tell? He didn't look like he suspected anything. Well, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Here is pen and parchment." Draco practically threw them at her, and they clattered onto the stone floor. "Write your goodbye note. And be quick. I've spent too much time here, already."

Picking them up with shaking hands, she clasped the pen in her fingers and began. Hopefully, she wouldn't obey him. Her head hurt and her wrist was in such pain it was going numb, but luckily, she didn't feel compelled to obey him, as far as she could tell.

"What should I say?" she asked, trying to steady her voice and stall.

"Just tell him you were behind everything because of your father," Draco snapped. "Do I have to dictate every word?"

Pausing, in a pretense of thinking, she stared at him blankly. "Sir, I don't know what you want me to write, sir. Tell me, and I'll write it down."

Draco sighed and his eyes rolled. He cursed silently and came closer to her.

"Dear Severus,'" Draco began impatiently, scowling as if he'd like to just shoot her.

Painstakingly, she began to copy the dictation. She presumed he'd never cast this spell before, so even he couldn't know everything about its effects. She prayed this slow pace would provide more time for Severus to arrive.

"How do I spell Severus?'" she asked, trying to make her voice very blank.

"Damn you," he cursed and slowly gave her the correct letters.

Then he continued. "I'm sorry, but I poisoned everyone.'"

She slowly penned the sentence, concentrating as hard as she could on calling Snape back to her.

"My father taught me that magic was evil,'" Draco added, after she took an eternity to continue writing.

Deliberately, she clenched the quill so tightly that it snapped, and ink poured onto the floor and down her hand.

She heard him swear again and lunge for her. On sudden inspiration, she knocked the goblet out of his hands. Liquid went flying and splashing everywhere.

At that moment, her door, which hadn't been quite hinged, flew open and crashed against the far wall. In the commotion, she could only see a lot of black coming their way, and heard a wonderful voice that she'd come to adore, especially now.

There was something else behind Severus, though it was the silliest thing. A cat? She never knew Severus owned a cat. He had plenty of pythons and mambas and other scary things he liked to startle her with...but a cat? She tried to get a better look at it, but it scurried under the cot.

Draco had managed to yank something out of his cloak. It wasn't a wand, but something even more terrifying - a hypodermic needle, and it was poised above her.

The wind was knocked out of her as Snape threw himself on top of her, and Draco's arm plunged down. She felt no pain, but she thought she heard Severus wince and then, she heard herself screaming in horror.

The needle was buried in his shoulder. Severus turned and tried to get back up to his feet, but slumped down in an unconscious heap.

After that, things were an insane blur, and Amelia never quite remembered their sequence. She heard her own voice screaming, as if it were coming from another corner of the room.

Then, the entire scene seemed to be going on before her eyes, as if she were in a theater watching a play.

"I'll kill you!" Amelia heard herself shrieking. "I'll spend the rest of my life tracking you, and I'll kill you!"

She saw her own hand pulling the needle out of Snape's shoulder.

"It should have been you," he cried. "It's all your fault. You ruined everything. You ruined him."

"You're sick," she hissed, tears streaming from her eyes. "You're just sick."

Draco forced himself to regain his composure.

"I'm not sick. How does anyone know you didn't do this? I tried to get you to stop, but you're the one who stabbed him with the needle."

"We are married, Draco." Her eyes began to glitter crazily, and she saw his mouth open in more shock. "I would never do this to him. I couldn't, by your own laws."

After a tense moment, Draco merely laughed it off.

"Nonsense. You're a magical disaster, and you did this plain as day. You were casting a spell on me and stabbed Professor Snape when he tried to intervene. That's what the judges will hear."

"They won't believe you."

He sneered horribly. "And they'd believe a demented mudblood from the wastelands of America?" His voice was as slippery as an eel's. "You don't know anything about the tribunal system here, _Mrs. Snape_. My family is close friends with more than a few judges. You're on your way to Azkaban. I'd say your husband got the better end of the bargain."

Once again, Amelia felt herself in an echo chamber, as if it were months ago inside the potions closet. How complicated things had become since then. Draco's voice melted into meaningless vibrations, and icy panic set in.

She could hear herself sobbing, and then she heard popping and louder explosions, and saw stone begin to fall and dust to rise. Lovely. Once again, her powers were pummeling the walls instead of doing anything useful and pummeling Draco.

It didn't matter. She didn't care about anything. She could only kneel beside Severus and whisper his name, pressing and probing the base of his neck to check for a pulse.

Draco removed his wand, smiled smugly, and began to point it toward her, but now, she had no fear. Severus was probably dead. Why go on living? In a way, it was nice not to fear death.

Surprisingly, Malfoy paused, and she noticed anxiety filling his eyes as he stared in horror over her shoulder.

It was too late for her to look. The next instant, his wand burst into a thousand bits. With a sickening explosion, Draco spun up in the air, as if he were sucked into a cyclone, and disappeared in a blinding flash of light.

Struggling to focus, Amelia couldn't see a soul. It had become as quiet as midnight.

She prayed this was all a hallucination, or even that she had finally snapped and would wake up in that Kansas psychiatric ward, after all. Anything was better than the thought of Severus being dead.

Closing her eyes, she leaned over Severus and tried to calm herself, but the sobs would not end.

"Amelia…" called a kind, soothing voice from somewhere behind her. "Amelia, dear…"

But she could hardly hear it, as she struggled to give him mouth-to-mouth, recheck for a pulse – anything and everything she'd learned as a nurse.

"Amelia…" said the voice again. "We need to get Severus to Albus at once."

Speechless and despondent, Amelia finally glanced up and saw Minerva standing above her, extending her hand.

"We won't have to worry about Malfoy anymore, dear. He's in the proper hands. Now, let's try to save your husband."


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"Minerva, you have to get Amelia out of here," Madame Pomfrey begged, bustling over to Professor McGonigall as she entered the infirmary some days later.

"Can't you turn her into something? She's a whirling dervish. She's…the devil." Madame Pomfrey's voice was utterly desperate. "She screams at us if we don't do things just her way. She's terrifying the orderlies…she makes her husband look like a saint."

Glancing worriedly over at her niece, Minerva nodded and her lips tightened.

"She's been here for days," Madame Pomfrey added wearily. "Every day she gets worse. I'm worried for her own health. Look at her. Please, you have to do something."

"I'll do what I can," Minerva said calmly, and Madame Pomfrey nodded and stepped back.

Minerva walked slowly over to Amelia, who was seated beside Severus, clenching his hands and pressing them to her cheek – checking his forehead for a temperature practically non-stop, and apparently unaware of much else.

Quietly, Minerva positioned herself beside her.

"Amelia, dear, how are you?" she asked gently.

But Amelia did not need to answer. She looked as if she'd aged 20 years – sallow, dark circles, bloodshot eyes. Her frazzled hair streamed everywhere – covering part of her face, and her hands trembled. Actually, except for the lack of green skin, she looked like a "witch" – straight out of one of those silly, muggle fairy tales.

"Dear, please, you must eat something and rest. You're not doing either one of you any good," Minerva suggested gently.

Amelia glared at Minerva as if she'd told her to just go ahead and finish him off.

"I won't leave him," she whispered bitterly. "How can you suggest that?"

"You won't be leaving him. He's in very capable hands."

Amelia's eyes glittered crazily and her hands clenched into fists.

"No. I'm the only one who can take care of him. They don't know anything. They're not doctors. I don't know what they are."

Then Amelia stood up and yelled, "Madame Pomfrey, why the hell hasn't anyone taken his blood pressure? It's been an hour."

Minerva's face tensed in alarm, and Amelia sank back into the chair and continued clenching Severus' hand.

"Don't look at me that way, Aunt Minerva. I left my mother; I left her, and she died. I can't leave him. Not for a minute. He'll die. I know it. He'll die."

Tears sprang into Minerva's eyes and she looked down, to avoid having Amelia seeing them.

"I abandoned my mother. I won't leave him. Ever. I'll kill you if you try to make me. I'll kill everyone. I'll kill myself…" Amelia burst into tears and pressed Severus' hands to her face, sobbing and shaking in exhaustion.

Studying her in profound pity, Minerva leaned over and put her arms around her.

"Oh Amelia, you're so mistaken," Minerva whispered. "Your mother loved you so much. You didn't desert her. She wanted you to do your nursing work and she was so proud of you. I have letters I should show you. She wouldn't have wanted you to forfeit all of that to sit with her every second of the day."

"I couldn't bear it if he died, too," Amelia's voice cracked. "Why would this happen? Why did this have to happen?"

"He won't die, dear. Please believe me. You're just exhausted. Severus would want you to rest. He wouldn't want you to be so distraught."

Amelia looked blearily at her, as if she couldn't comprehend her words, and Minerva nodded confidently.

"You need to keep well, for his sake, Amelia. What if you became ill, yourself, and really left him? You're the only person I've ever met who could make him smile. Would you take that away?"

"I could never leave him," Amelia whispered, shaking her head.

"Then go rest. Or…just climb in with him, for goodness sake, and sleep."

There was something in Minerva's voice – that was so reassuring and calming – Amelia almost believed her. Her mother's voice had sounded about the same, and it was so nice to hear it again. Maybe, just maybe, she was right.

Slowly, Amelia removed her cloak and climbed in beside him, slipping her arm around his waist.

"Now, think about your future together," Minerva said gently. "He won't leave you. He's far too ornery."

"Do you really think so?" Amelia asked, already beginning to drift.

"I know it, Amelia, and so do you. He's been through darker days than this."

Amelia smiled, finally feeling a little peace. "I love you, Aunt Minerva. I'm sorry we didn't have you at our wedding. It happened rather suddenly, and I was afraid you'd have a breakdown."

Minerva only laughed softly. "You have a point, dear. You probably did the right thing."

Closing her eyes, Amelia smiled again and Minerva laughed just for a second.

"I know something to cheer you up," Minerva said in a brighter tone. "Allow me to introduce Draco Malfoy."

Everything, including the memory of Malfoy, had flown out of her mind the second Severus had collapsed. Now, Amelia recalled the sight of his terrifying face, and her head began to pound.

"No…I can't see him. If I see him, I'll kill him."

"Here he is –" Minerva reached into her cloak and brought out a small, grumpy looking tortoise.

Amelia's eyes widened and she melted into laughter. Minerva smiled briefly.

"He won't get anywhere fast, that's for certain. Draco will be going a slower for the time being, while we try to figure out what on earth to do with him."

Amelia's eyes sparkled. "Can't we just keep him as a school pet?"

Minerva laughed. "Perhaps. Personally, I'd like to do just that."


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

"So what do we do with him, Albus?" Minerva asked later that day, as she sat in his office sipping on her fifth cup of tea.

Albus took a deep breath and eased back in his chair, watching the December snow fall down.

"What do we do with him? What do we do with Severus and Amelia? What do we do with this entire school? You were right when you said just one year of peace would be a welcome miracle."

Minerva smiled wistfully. "Yes, it just doesn't seem to go that way around here."

"What am I doing wrong?" Albus asked himself, more than her. "I'm headmaster here. I'm responsible for all of this – and these awful things just keep happening. Am I losing my touch?"

Minerva shook her head and smiled understandingly. "No one could do better, Albus. Perhaps providence put you at the helm of a dangerous voyage for good reason."

Albus smiled tiredly and took a puff of his pipe.

Suddenly, the office doors burst open and a middle-aged, blonde woman burst inside, frowning and fuming. Albus and Minerva looked up in surprise, followed quickly by dread.

"How could you accuse my son of such terrible things?" Mrs. Malfoy cried angrily. "Draco would never do anything like that."

Minerva forced a smile and Albus groaned.

"Please, Narcissa, sit down. We need to discuss this like mature adults," Albus said.

"Like mature adults? My son is a good boy. He would never engage in these activities. It must be something you did. You teachers always blame the students for your own shortcomings."

"Mrs. Malfoy, there is no question that Draco was behind this poisoning scheme. And, although the students will eventually recover, it was a serious offense. Dozens of students will be delayed in their graduations, which will throw the entire school off course."

"A harmless prank. He's just a little high-spirited. He's a boy. It's part of their coming of age."

Minerva scowled and took a long sip of tea. "Most boys don't try to poison their professor's wife."

"How dare you," Narcissa hissed. "He did no such thing. And I don't blame poor Draco for being a little upset with her."

"Oh Lord," Albus moaned softly, his eyes raised to the heavens.

"She invaded this school like a shark and completely bewitched Professor Snape. She should have been dismissed months ago. This is all your fault, Albus."

"Amelia is a wonderful woman; and besides, she's incapable of bewitching anyone," Albus said, growing more impatient. "More important, in no way did they allow their feelings to interfere with their teaching. The students' examination scores are proof enough of that. Even Draco did well."

Narcissa, pulling her coat tighter, merely huffed and looked away.

"It's even possible that Amelia even helped Severus see - certain things - in a clearer light," Albus added thoughtfully.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Narcissa demanded, her eyes blazing.

Minerva's eyes hardened and she crossed her arms.

"Mrs. Malfoy, you will remember that Professor Dumbledore is headmaster here. If you continue to use that tone, you will be sent out of this school. This is your first and final warning."

Bristling, Mrs. Malfoy, looked down and said nothing.

"Where is my son?" she finally said, in a bitter, but softer voice.

"He's being contained quite comfortably," Albus answered vaguely.

"I want to see him at once."

"He's cannot have visitors. He's a bit…shell-shocked," Minerva said, glancing over at Albus and then biting her lip to avoid an impulsive smile.

Narcissa stood up stiffly and smoothed her coat. "This isn't over. Not by a long shot. I have lawyers, I have close ties – friends who will demand that justice is done."

Albus stood up, and seemed to tower over her. "Narcissa, I have heard enough of your threats and insults. At the very least, Draco will be expelled. But, with the attempt on Mrs. Snape's life, his charges could become much more grave."

"There was no attempt on her life. It's her word against Draco's."

Minerva sighed. "It might be a little more complicated than that, Narcissa. You see, I was there, and I witnessed the entire scene."

Narcissa's eyes flew open in shock, and she gaped in horror at Minerva.

Blinking and looking from one to the other, she could only clench her purse and say, "This is a conspiracy, pure and simple. You all plotted against my poor husband and he's in Azkaban. Now you're after my son. I won't have it."

With that, she turned and flew out of the doors, slamming them behind her.

When Narcissa had stormed down a hallway and turned a corner, she came face to face with a woman she hadn't seen before, but recognized at once.

Something about this woman put her nerves on edge, and that was something that rarely happened. Dressed all in black, the woman had streaming, dark hair, sharp blue eyes encircled by shadows, and an odd imbalance about her that was formidable, bordering upon frightening.

Amelia, upon noticing the blonde woman, stopped dead. She knew this woman instinctively. There was too much resemblance to Draco.

Instead of hurrying away, as she might have done before all of this mayhem, she stood her ground and stared coldly at Mrs. Malfoy, without a trace of fear.

"You must be Severus' wife," Narcissa said icily. "The woman who caused all of this."

"I am," Amelia answered evenly, observing Narcissa with a frosty eye.

"You've tried to ruin my son – to frame him for your own crimes. Be warned, I am a formidable enemy."

Amelia only smiled. "So am I."

A bit taken aback, Narcissa glanced away for just an instant. Amelia did not.

"You're so far out of your league," Narcissa went on. "You may have mesmerized Professor Snape, but you won't win this war. We come from a long line of wizards, and my son is destined to become a great one."

"Great wizards don't try to poison their friends and frame innocent people for it," Amelia replied evenly.

Narcissa shook her head in hatred. "We have so many friends, Mrs. Snape, you have no idea of how fiercely we can fight you. You're just a common mudblood, with no allies and no breeding."

Amelia's smile didn't fade. "I had breeding enough to withstand the Imperio curse your son tried to cast. You see, people often underestimate me, Mrs. Malfoy, but I love being underestimated. It can be very useful ammunition."

Narcissa's forehead creased in confusion, and Amelia's eyes began to burn with rage.

"If my husband dies, I'll have nothing to live for, so I won't fear death. You're all so terrified of You-Know-Who? Picture him as a vengeful, psychopathic woman. That will be me."

Narcissa stepped back and crossed her arms. "You're insane – just as I'd heard. No wonder Severus married you. You're two peas in a pod. Out of my way." She brushed by Amelia and disappeared down the corridor.

-o -S- o-

Minerva and Albus, who had been quietly observing the scene from behind the nearest door, looked at each other in exhaustion.

"Just what we need…two You-Know-Whos," Albus said wearily. "We need to get her out of here, and pray Severus recovers."

Minerva swallowed hard and nodded. "The sooner the better."


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

"Madame Pomfrey, this is ridiculous. His saline drip is half empty and nobody's been around to change it," Amelia yelled, a few days later.

Reluctantly glancing up from another patient, Madame Pomfrey groaned and nodded. "I'll be right over, dear. I don't know how we've managed all these years without you."

Amelia shook her head impatiently. She didn't know, either.

"I should be in charge here," she grumbled to herself. "I wouldn't let IVs get low, and ignore patients who…"

Feeling eyes on her, she glanced up from Severus and saw Minerva standing over her, smiling tiredly.

"Hello, dear, how are you?"

Amelia shrugged. "Tolerable. Everyone around here is slow as molasses in January. His IV is three- quarters empty, and nobody cares. If I weren't yelling and screaming all the time, I think he'd be dead."

Minerva nodded. "I think they'll be around. We haven't had any malpractice litigation I've been aware of."

"Wonders never cease," Amelia muttered. "If this were America, the trial lawyers would be lining up around the castle."

Clearing her throat, Minerva glanced out the window. It was one of those rare, sunny days in the otherwise dark, damp month of December.

"Dear, let's not talk about lawyers. Why don't we take a walk."

"I can't. The IV…"

"I promise she'll change it. Now, let's go and give poor Madame Pomfrey a break, shall we? It's such a pleasant day, and I know how you love your walks. Severus would want you to."

With a twist of misgiving to her lips, Amelia took a deep breath. "Oh, all right."

While Amelia was kissing Severus goodbye, Madame Pomfrey smiled at Minerva as if she were a goddess – and blew her a kiss of gratitude.

As Amelia passed Madame Pomfrey, her eyes cooled. "That saline had better be changed by the time I get back," she threatened.

Minerva took her arm and pulled her toward the door, and soon they were outside in the crisp winter air.

They strolled through a topiary, and then on to a now hibernating flower garden.

"You look much better today, dear," Minerva remarked, noticing the dark circles weren't quite so dark, and the hair was a bit more under control. "Severus is stable. I'm so glad."

Amelia smiled. "So am I. I can't wait to see him open his eyes."

Minerva nodded. "You really love him, don't you?"

Amelia nodded. "He's the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm so thankful to you for bringing me here. It's totally changed my life."

Smiling thoughtfully, Minerva took her arm. "It's been wonderful having you with us. Are you and Severus planning to remain here for the long term? I hope so. It wouldn't be the same without you."

Amelia shrugged. "We haven't had much time to talk, but I'm sure we will. He loves his work so much, and he's such a gifted teacher. He's so good with his students."

Curiously, Minerva's eyes fluttered and she began to cough, but she finally contained herself.

"Are you all right, Aunt Minerva?" Amelia asked worriedly.

"Oh, yes, just a slight cold."

As they entered another section of the garden, who should appear but Hagrid, a ladder in one hand, and a bundle of Christmas lights in the other.

"Hello, ladies," he greeted merrily. "What a rare and beautiful December day it is."

"Hello, Hagrid," Amelia said warmly. "You've done wonders with all of the decorations. I love looking at them. I'm glad I can see some of them."

He smiled bashfully. "It's nothing, Miss Amelia. I like to get things just right for the holidays."

"Well, you certainly did. They really lift my spirits," Amelia said earnestly.

He nodded. "Oh, by the way, Professor McGonigall, you got a Christmas package a couple of hours ago. I delivered it to your office."

Minerva smiled curiously and nodded. "Thank you, Hagrid. Strange, I wasn't expecting anything."

"I guess you get all kinds of unexpected things this time of year. I saw that silly tortoise someone gave you." He chuckled at the memory. Minerva did not chuckle.

"Yes, indeed, it was odd, but I guess you get all kinds of Christmas gifts from the youngsters. Don't worry, though. I got rid of him for you. It's been so warm, I figured he could go find a home and hibernate for the winter. He's off in the forest now – safe and sound."

Both women froze as if the temperature had plummeted fifty degrees.

Amelia looked at Minerva and Minerva looked at her.

"We have to get you out of here," Minerva murmured.


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

In a remote stretch of New Mexico desert, near the foothills of the Capitan Mountains, meandered a dusty, unpaved road, full of tumbleweeds, scrub and cactus. At the end of this road, stood a small, adobe cottage, baking in the August heat.

The secluded, little house was the color of sand, and practically blended with the sand, so travelers didn't notice it if they passed by, though few did pass.

The cottage may have been small, but it had a definite charm. There was a traditional tiled roof and a neatly tended cactus garden, now blossoming with in vivid desert colors like magenta and orange.

If visitors had come to call (which they did not), they would have been startled to the core. Just one step inside brought all of the friendly Southwestern appeal squealing to a halt.

In a word, it was black. Black curtains, black rugs, black-upholstered furnishings, a black piano, and, even, black wallpaper, albeit with small purple flower accents.

The only light came from an unusual candle, burning brightly in a black holder. And the only color this particular day, may have been a pair of unique blue eyes.

How large they were, and how beautiful, and so many colors and hues if one looked long enough. And it was wonderful to look long enough.

Were they azure? Were they turquoise, or perhaps lapis? They looked familiar - so big and kind, and filled with so much warmth.

"Severus," came a whisper, in a loving voice that seemed to perfectly match the eyes. Lips touched his forehead.

"Severus, wake up. It's time."

But he was so tired - so incredibly tired. Did he have to wake up? He closed his eyes.

Erratic, nonsensical flashes flickered in his mind. Visions of a castle, of children wearing robes, of a pretty woman with incredible eyes tripping on a step...

These visions were so comforting, part of him didn't want to wake up. And he wouldn't have, except for that relentless nagging – like one would hear from some bossy nurse in the infirmary. He groaned.

"I love you so much. I've waited so long. Please, wake up."

He felt a hand patting his cheek, and reluctantly opened his eyes.

"Amelia…" he whispered. He knew her. Yes, he knew her very well.

Bursting into a deep sob, she collapsed on top of him and held onto him for dear life, as if she were somehow afraid he would escape or disappear. He caught his breath, as she'd knocked the wind out of him.

Why was she crying? He felt tears on his cheeks and a soft hand. She murmured so many things. How much she loved him, how wonderful he was, how deeply she'd missed him.

"Missed me?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

"I'll explain later," she choked. "You're going to be all right now. The worst is over."

Smiling, he gazed up at her. "Look at you. You're all in black. You're beautiful."

Laughing and crying at the same time, she just clung to him and continued to nearly smother him with kisses.

His head was killing him, and his throat was as dry as it had ever been, but right now he could only hold her close, kiss her, and smell the faint floral scent of her perfume.

"Where are we?" he asked. "Is it time for class? Have we been in bed all weekend again?"

She began to cry even harder. He'd meant it as a joke. Had it hurt her? God, he'd rather die than hurt her.

She wasn't sad. She was happy. His sense of humor had returned and it was wonderful. How she'd missed his wry comments and teasing. He would recover, she thought gratefully, and could not stop even more tears.

"You're safe here," she whispered. "I took you into the desert where nobody can hurt you. You've been sick a long time, but you're getting better."

When their lips met, she felt such joy, as if she would have a stroke right then and there. Every nerve snapped to life within her, every ounce of blood began to pump faster, and she thought she would pass out from the happiness.

His face was a little darker, a bit thin, and perhaps more deeply lined, but over the next half hour, with her tears and kisses, those lines seemed to fade. Loosening his collar, she cupped his face in her hands and simply allowed herself to admire its darkness and beauty.

Soon, he was able to sit up, and she gave him a glass of water and checked on his IV.

"We'll be able to take that out soon," she said, smiling. "Then you'll have to endure my cooking."

He only laughed and reached for her hand, pulling her back down beside him.

"What happened?" he asked, smoothing the hair from her eyes. "The last thing I remember was Draco sticking me with something. I feel like I've been run over by a train."

She nodded. "I'm sure you do. You took a syringe full of the poison."

"Lovely," he muttered, and shook his head. "I suppose my powers are gone for good."

Smiling, she shook her head. "They should return slowly. Hermoine's have. Albus needs you to help find something to hasten the recovery period."

He closed his eyes in exhaustion.

Slipping her hand into his, she whispered, "I'm very honored, you know. You took that needle for me. It was very chivalrous of you."

He frowned. "There you go, putting me on a pedestal. I tripped over my robes."

Nodding thoughtfully, she kissed his cheek. "Well, then, I wish you hadn't tripped. What did I have to lose?"

His forehead creased. "I had plenty to lose. Do you think I'd be worth a damn without you?"

She sighed and glanced away, her eyes beginning to sting. He gripped her shoulders.

"Amelia, we'd have all probably lost our powers without your help. And who knows where Malfoy would be."

She took a breath. Yes, who knew where Malfoy was. They still couldn't find him. She'd try to save that news for later.

"Look at me, Amelia. I promised I'd help you refine your power, and I will." He kissed her gently.

Tiredly, she closed her own eyes and leaned against him.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"At my little house in New Mexico."

"You've been taking care of me, all by yourself?"

"Well, yes. They thought we'd be better off here. I was…a bit hard on everyone after you got sick. I've sent poor Madame Pomfrey ten bouquets of flowers, but I don't know if she'll ever fully forgive me."

He laughed and kissed her again. "You're the best nurse in the world."

"She doesn't think so, and I don't blame her. I…really fell apart for awhile. I'm banned from the infirmary."

As they lay together, they said nothing for what seemed hours. It was just so good to see him awake, and to know he was all right. She would cry now and then, and he would kiss her, and make a joke, and she'd laugh, and then start crying again. But it didn't matter. She'd never felt such happiness and relief.

He sighed. "No power. I've never had no power. It's like losing one's purpose."

She blushed and couldn't contain a small laugh.

"What was that for?" His voice grew prickly.

"Oh, I'm just glad to see you."

His eyes sharpened. It was impossible to keep anything secret from him and she could feel the moment approaching. Try as she might, she could not get her eyes to stop sparkling.

"What is going on, Amelia? Why are you blushing?"

"I just think that…sometimes our purpose in life shifts a little."

"Go on." His voice was dark and formidable, and he crossed his arms and glared at her.

She slipped her arm around his waist. Her eyes began lighten into a lovely, aqua blue.

"I have a little news."

His eyes darkened to their blackest black. "I just woke up from a coma. I don't want news."

"It's very, very good news, though it might wind up a murder-suicide with you."

Every muscle in his face went rigid. "You'd better tell me. I'm not in any mood for riddles."

She took a deep breath. "Well, Severus…a lot happened while you were unconscious."

"Enlighten me." His eyes were sharp as lasers.

"We, sort of, have a son."

His eyes clouded. "What?"

"We have a son."

He froze, and stared at her in pure shock.

"No, we don't."

"Yes, we do."

"No, we don't."

"I'm afraid we do."

His mouth fell open in horror and her lips bloomed into a huge smile.

"You…never looked…like you were…" he was stammering so much he could barely get out the words and she melted into laughter.

"You've been in a coma for a long time. I was big as a house." Her eyes sparkled merrily.

His lips parted and he could only keep shaking his head in denial. "Amelia, this is not funny."

"He's beautiful and healthy. I named him after you."

"You're lying."

"I could never lie to you."

"Why can't you try? Oh, my God…oh my God…why would you do this? I don't understand." His face filled with confusion, followed by raw panic.

"What don't you understand?" She bravely met his gaze.

"Don't be coy with me, miss. What is going on?"

She only laughed all the more, squeezing his arm.

He scowled and leaned closer to her, as if he were afraid others would overhear. "How could this happen?" he demanded.

She tried to steady her voice. "I think we may have had a miscommunication."

"Miscommunication? For God's sake, you're a nurse. I thought you had everything under control."

She shrugged tensely. "Well, you're a wizard, and I assumed, with your powers…"

"Oh, Amelia…" He covered his face with his hands and slumped back. "You don't have the slightest comprehension of wizardry. You refuse to take it seriously. You simply refuse."

She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "I'm sorry. I'll try to be more serious."

"You will not. You live to torment me."

"Well, he's here, and he's not so bad. You'll get used to him."

"No, I won't. My God, you've ruined my life. Just ruined it - torn it to shreds."

"Well, I'm sorry about that, but he's adorable, and he looks so much like you."

"That seals it. I'm leaving, it's as simple as that."

"Don't go just yet." She kissed him. "He's beautiful and he's such a good baby. You'll love him…given enough time."

He covered his face with his hands. "He's not mine; he's not. I knew you had an affair with Lupin."

She blushed and took his hand. "He's yours, yours, yours."

He rubbed his temples. "You're evil; simply evil."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, smiling.

"You're not sorry. You always say you're sorry, but you never are. You just say it – like other people say hello or goodbye."

But his eyes found hers and for a brief moment, he couldn't help smiling, but quickly forced a frown.

She took his hand and pressed it. "You promised I could have ten."

"I was lying. You wanted to take poison. I would have said fifty to change your mind. Don't look so happy. You know this is a disaster."

Radiant with joy, she found his eyes and began to get lost as she often did. The room became a blur, and she didn't see anything but him. He smiled briefly and put his hand on her cheek.

"You're glowing like a candle when this is as bad as it can be."

"I know it's a shock, but I really did believe that, with all of your potions, there wouldn't be any surprises like this."

"You know, my dear, I've taught hundreds of excuse-making students – but that is the most pathetic attempt to shift the blame I've ever heard."

"Maybe it was magical, in its own way."

"I can't wait to hear this."

"Forty weeks, to the day, from Halloween." She kissed him recklessly.

"Magical…" he grumbled. "Another weak attempt to cloak the horror of all this, but why am I surprised? One night of pleasure, and years of torment. That's how it always goes for me."

"As I recall, it was more than one night. Given the circumstances, this was inevitable, medically speaking."

"So that's why you wanted to stay with me every night. You wanted a baby, and you trapped me. You always have to have your way."

"I promise he was a wonderful surprise. And besides, you said you couldn't be trapped." She tried not to laugh, but failed once again.

"Do you want to meet him?" she ventured.

"No."

"Well, you have to eventually. I'll go get him."

-o -S- o-

She returned with a warm bundle of black blankets and handed the baby to him.

"He's only three weeks old, and he already has black hair like you."

Taking the baby into his arms, surprisingly naturally and easily, Severus sighed.

"I manage to survive a miserable childhood, Deatheaters and Harry Potter, and you destroy me in a matter of months."

As he held his son, there was a sudden stillness, even a serenity, in the room, and he fell silent for a long period of time. There were no words. Amelia said nothing and looked away, allowing him to take his time.

"You've given me quite a year," he said wryly. "It hasn't been dull, that's for certain."

Kissing the baby's cheek, she smiled. "He's an angel, and he's such good company. Even before he was born, I never felt alone. I would talk to him about you, and Hogwarts, and how special he was, and how special you were."

"You're insane. He has the worst father in the world, and it's true his mother's pretty, but she's nothing but trouble."

She only slipped her arms around him.

"Are you upset with me?" she ventured.

"I'm furious. Look what you did."

"You just kissed him, you know."

He sighed deeply. "Oh, I'll get used to him, I suppose. I've been drowning in children for years. What's one more?"

Tiredly, she closed her eyes and held onto him.

He shifted the baby to one arm. "You're pale. Are you all right? Did everything go well for you?"

"Oh yes, it was fine. I'm just tired. He eats and eats and eats."

His lips turned. "I certainly can't blame him for that. That's one potion only you can make, and I'm sure it's wonderful."

She blushed deeply.

"Going and having a baby behind my back, Amelia, I should abandon you both."

"I know, but I wish you'd been there when he was born. It was beautiful."

His lips tightened and he put his free arm around her. "I regret that. I hope you forgive me."

"Of course I do," she said softly. "You can be there for the next one."

Closing her eyes, she felt so safe and so comfortable, and she felt his fingers interlace with hers.

"Do you think he'll have any power, Severus?" she asked dreamily.

Pausing, he studied his son. "Yes, but with you for a mother, he'll need a lot of guidance to use it properly."

She nodded. "Maybe he could attend Hogwarts. He'd be a very gifted student, with you for his father."

Severus smiled vaguely. "It's possible."

Then, to her mild surprise, he kissed her softly on the lips.

"Do you still love me?" she asked, a little nervously.

"I never did. I certainly didn't want a child with you."

She smiled in relief. "He's wonderful, and, you have to admit, he does give you the purpose you're looking for."

"Don't even try." But his voice was kind and he was actually smiling.

"I'm only saying, you can pass your knowledge onto him, and to any brothers and sisters who come along."

"Don't try to soften this, Amelia. And that's your second hint for more children."

"You promised, and you've been holding him a half-hour."

"I'll throw him out of the window the second he cries."

Radiant and laughing, she wrapped her arms around him and their lips came together softly at first, but then again and again, and again and again and again.

"My powers aren't quite so erratic these days," she said softly. "Until yours come back, I might be able to help you with the potions. You'd have to teach all of the theory and methods, of course."

"You would do that? You hate it there."

"It isn't that bad, and I love working with you. Besides, we need to help them find Draco."

"What do you mean?"

"Minerva turned him into a tortoise, but Hagrid accidentally let him go."

His gaze rolled to the heavens. "Why should I expect anything else?"

She smiled.

"All right. We'll go, but the baby stays here."

She only laughed and squeezed his arm.

"There's silver lining in all of this," she mused, taking his hand.

"No, there's not. You've finished me."

"Picture my aunt's face when she sees the three of us."

He paused and nodded thoughtfully. "That's very true, my dear. I suppose this isn't the worst thing in the world."


	26. Book 2 Chapter 1

BOOK 2: CHAPTER ONE

"Amelia, for God's sake come and get your son. He just let the snakes go again."

Wearily, Severus picked up two or three sizeable Burmese pythons and put them back into a large wicker basket.

Amelia hurried into the kitchen, which wasn't really a kitchen anymore, but a ramshackle potions lab.

"You know they're dangerous. Why did you get him two more?" she asked irritably.

Snape shrugged. "He likes them. What am I supposed to do?"

Frowning mildly, she kissed his cheek, hoisting the baby into her arms and groaning cheerfully. In just under five months, the younger Severus was crawling as fast as a ground squirrel, and making messes everywhere he went.

"You're so heavy," she said happily, kissing the baby. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you. You're into everything these days."

"Take him away," Severus said. "Go feed him to a mountain lion or something."

Laughing, she eased up beside him and smiled. "Do you like him yet?"

"Of course not."

"Sorry. Why do I bother asking?"

"He wreaks more havoc everyday. It's all that milk you keep feeding him."

She blushed and eased closer to him. "He's hungry, and it's good for him."

"It's inappropriate."

"You're so old-fashioned. It gives him all of his antibodies and nutrition."

"I suppose you're right," Severus said, in a softer, deeper tone. "I'm hungry, Amelia."

Her mouth fell open. "No. Stay away. You're always hungry."

"But it gives me my antibodies."

"You're being…horrible again." She couldn't help but laugh.

Leaning down, he kissed her softly and took his son into his arms.

"Go play with your pythons," he whispered and plopped him down on the floor.

Then, he drew Amelia into his arms, nearly snapping her in half as he bent her over in a deep embrace. She laughed and hung on for dear life, as their breathing began to come in the usual, erratic gasps.

"Severus, the baby…" she whispered, as they nearly flew into the bed as clothes began to fly, too.

"He'll be fine, I promise. God, I want you."

She slipped her arms around his neck. "Take me," she laughed.

Awhile later, or was it an hour…Amelia opened her eyes, and realized she was still tight in his embrace.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He only kissed her fingers and pressed her hand to his heart.

"You should be. It's terribly impolite to fall asleep afterwards. At least, that's the sermon we men hear."

She only laughed softly and blushed. "I can't help it. You're too powerful, and you sap my strength."

Unable to help herself, she dissolved into more embarrassed laughter.

He only sighed and played with a lock of her dark hair.

"I'm not taking a potion, for the two-hundredth time," he reminded her. "I know you're ignoring me, and if you have another, I will leave."

She shrugged. "Let's not worry about it."

Propping himself up on an elbow, he looked at her as if she'd gone green. "Not worry about it? A baby could be on its way, as we speak."

"I hope so. That would be lovely."

"I'm not hearing this. This is a nightmare."

But she kissed him softly on the lips, in a certain way she knew he loved, and felt him respond, as his own lips traveled from her mouth, down her throat, and onto her breasts – where he began to drink as hungrily as his son.

At last, she had to smile and push him back. "Leave some for Severus," she said gently and he sighed and eased away.

"God, it's delicious. It may be helping my powers return. I think it is. Truly."

"You're more of a liar than me," she giggled.

But she was glowing, and she slipped her arms around his neck.

"You're incredible," she whispered, rolling over on top of him, a little too enthusiastically, and they both toppled out of bed onto the floor.

He was laughing his head off and she cried out again, this time in embarrassment, and buried her head in his chest.

"I love you so much," he whispered and laughed all the more. "How did I live so long without you?"

Tears formed in her eyes and she slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him close.

Later, when they walked out into the living room to check on Severus, both of them froze. Then, if it were possible, Severus blushed. He really did, though it only tinged his pale skin the slightest degree, so only she could notice. Amelia's hands fell limp at her sides and, of course, she went nearly magenta.

"Merry Christmas," Albus said brightly.

"Who is this baby with the python constricting around him?" Minerva asked, just softly enough to cut steel.

Hastily, Severus undid the python and draped it over a few branches of the Christmas tree. Amelia quickly scooped up the baby.

"May I say it?" Snape whispered into her ear. "I'm begging you. It will make this the best Christmas I've ever had. Please..."

She frowned mildly. "All right, for goodness sake."

"Merry Christmas," Snape said evenly. "This is our son, Severus Jr."

-o -S- o-

"Minerva, don't be ridiculous," Snape complained, patting her cheeks and holding a small vial of salts under her nose. "He's just a silly baby."

Sputtering and coughing, Minerva moaned and kept trying to open her eyes. Amelia took her pulse and fanned her. Albus held Severus Jr. and simply walked out of the room.

"Where are we? Oh, heavens, my head hurts," Minerva rambled.

Frowning again, Snape walked away and Amelia smiled and kissed her.

"Aunt Minerva, please, don't get up just yet. Try to relax and breathe normally."

"Relax?" she cried. "No one has powers, Draco is missing, his mother is threatening a law suit, and you two have a baby?"

Snape shrugged impatiently. "Don't look at me..."

Amelia shot him an annoyed look.

He only shrugged again and turned away.

"I think I'm going to pass out again," Minerva murmured, and she wasn't kidding. She started going down, but Amelia grabbed her in time and began patting her cheeks and giving her one more pass of salts.

Albus wandered aimlessly around the room, bouncing the baby in his arms, glancing here and there – far more at ease than many men Amelia had seen with new babies. Snape must have seen the same thing.

"I knew he was Albus'" he whispered into her ear.

Amelia stifled a smile and squeezed his hand. "Is there anyone you think isn't the father?"

"Possibly Hagrid."

Melting into laughter, she had to leave the room for a couple of minutes to calm down.

After a few more rounds of salts and so on, they managed to introduce Minerva to the baby.

"I'm so sorry I can't seem to stay...conscious," Minerva managed, and Amelia laughed and kissed her again.

"I must be tired from the trip," Minerva grasped at straws.

"What trip?" Snape muttered. "You used a port key."

"I'm sorry, Aunt Minerva. I was hoping to surprise you when we returned," Amelia explained.

"Well, this is certainly a surprise," she managed. "I'm sorry I…fainted. It was out of joy, of course."

Snape's eyes narrowed and Minerva refused to meet his gaze.

Amelia nodded understandingly. "Don't worry about it. Severus nearly relapsed when he found out about the baby, but now he loves him to death."

Snape forced a thin smile. "Amelia is still delusional from the delivery. I think something went wrong with the anesthesia."

"I didn't have anesthesia," She smiled smugly.

"That's what they all say." He smiled smugly.

Her pride faded into indignation. Her personal, baby-delivery saga instinctively popped to mind – for what would undoubtedly be the first of thousands of times.

"I go through twelve hours of hard labor…"

"Oh heavens, we just got here…" Albus groaned.

"With no anesthesia, because it was too late and I was too far gone when I made myself leave you and go to the hospital…"

Snape didn't even pretend to care.

"You left me helpless and in a coma, just to go and have a baby?" he asked in indignation.

"Things haven't changed much, I gather," Albus murmured to the baby. "You're going to have an interesting life, my boy. God help you."

Albus handed Minerva a cup of tea – and Amelia managed to help her up onto the couch.

"A son. Well, isn't that wonderful," Minerva seemed to be forcing each word out of her mouth as if it weighed ten pounds. "You both have had quite a year."

Amelia held Severus Jr. in her lap, kissing his curly dark hair and hugging him tightly. He smiled and gurgled, which made her kiss him all the more.

"Hand him over," Minerva said in defeat. "Let's meet my grand nephew."

Amelia complied, and Minerva, delicate and petite, looked completely overwhelmed by the baby – almost as if she'd topple over.

"You are handsome," Minerva conceded, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Heaven knows what you'll be like."

"A nightmare," Snape assisted her. Amelia only beamed all the brighter. "He already is, actually. Incredibly demanding."

Amelia smiled. "Don't listen to him, Aunt Minerva. He's a perfect angel."

Minerva's eyes made their way to Severus, who was somehow able to return the bewildered look and shrug, without Amelia's seeing.

Albus cleared another spot on the couch and managed to sit down amid the piles of black baby clothes, cloaks, robes and a couple of potions books.

"To what do we owe this pleasure?" Amelia finally asked, realizing that there must be some reason they'd made the long journey. "And it is such a joy to see you both, especially at Christmas."

"Yes, I'm overwhelmed," Snape added.

"Well, it's been a little too quiet around Hogwarts, and we've missed you," Albus said. Amelia kissed his cheek and he blushed.

"We've missed you all terribly," she replied. "This is the best Christmas ever – with all of us being together."

They smiled, but there was something sad in their expressions that bothered her. Severus caught it, too. She could see vague anxiety in his eyes, and she could feel it, too.

"Oh, where are my manners," she fussed, pushing those doubts away. "You all must be starving. I was about to start dinner. I haven't cooked a full, Christmas dinner in years."

Snape frowned. "You can't cook. There's no goose."

"That horrid python ate it."

He shrugged carelessly.

Minerva closed her eyes and took deep breaths.

Amelia smiled sweetly. "I'll manage. You all visit while I improvise in the kitchen. There must be something I can whip up."


	27. Book 2 Chapter 2

BOOK 2: CHAPTER TWO

"My dear, this is lovely," Albus praised, taking another helping of the main course. "The gravy is so delicate, yet so rich – and the flavor is a bit like goose, yet more exotic."

Amelia blushed, and Minerva hugged her.

Snape picked listlessly.

"Yes, dear, it is delicious," Minerva added warmly. "It's very flavorful. It's very…tender."

"It's python," Snape said flatly. "Damn it, Amelia, he was the largest one, and helped me work some of the charms."

She frowned mildly. "He was mean. He was always constricting around the baby."

Albus' fork clanked onto the floor and he leaned down to retrieve it – or perhaps just dived under the table to hide.

"Python?" Minerva asked weakly.

"Python," Snape answered drearily.

Flattered that Albus liked her cooking, Amelia didn't notice her aunt's steadily blanching face.

"Headmaster, I think the goose flavor is real," Amelia explained. "You see, the python just ate the goose the other day, so, I'm sure…"

Throwing back her chair, Minerva bolted for the bathroom. Amelia, a bit confused, hurried after her.

Snape slowly leaned forward after he'd made sure they were both out of the room

"You see what my life is like?" he whispered frantically. "Babies appearing out of nowhere; snake for Christmas dinner…utter insanity."

When about three feet of Christmas dinner was gone, and they were drinking coffee around the tree, Albus lit his pipe and smoked thoughtfully. Amelia smashed herself against Severus, as usual, and slipped her hand into his. Minerva played and fussed over Severus Jr., who was beginning to droop as the hour grew late.

"I apologize for the clutter," Amelia attempted. "Severus is very energetic and makes messes faster than I can clean them."

"What was the excuse before he could crawl?" Snape needled, catching her eye.

Albus smiled wistfully. "Look at that candle. It's still burning." He pointed toward the windowsill, where the black wedding candle still burned brightly, the same size it was over a year ago.

Amelia bloomed into a deep smile. "Yes, it is."

"God knows how," Snape murmured. "I know I'm miserable."

"Yes, I can see that," Minerva remarked, smiling softly.

Tiredly, Albus rested his head against the cushion. "How are your powers progressing?" he asked Snape.

Severus sighed and shadows crossed his face. "Some days are better than others. Amelia has been a great help. We sometimes get through a simple potion. Sometimes things go wrong. It just depends."

Amelia nodded. "I wish I could be of more help. My powers still aren't what they should be."

Severus shook his head. "You've been a tremendous help. Emotionally and otherwise. I'd be dead without you."

Albus nodded, in deeper thought, and smiled at them both. Minerva did the same, and held the baby closer as he began to drift off to sleep.

"The point is, there's hope," Albus concluded. "Miss Granger has completely recovered, as have many other students. At least Malfoy wasn't lying about the spell being temporary."

"Thank heavens for that," Minerva said in relief. "If only we could find him."

Amelia nodded, darkly enough to make her husband take notice.

"I'd like to find him," she said quietly. "I'd like that very much."

Snape smiled to himself and drew her closer.

"Have you enjoyed the desert?" Minerva asked, clearing her throat. "It's so quiet, compared to the school."

"Very, very much," Severus answered. "It has been a very peaceful experience. I actually could live here."

For a few minutes it was quiet, and they watched the lights in the tree glow. Finally, Albus leaned forward.

"I hate to tell you this, since you've grown so fond of it here, but it's time to come back to Hogwarts."

-o -S- o-

"I can't believe it," Amelia said pensively, gazing out beyond the moonlit foothills, an hour or so later.

"I can't believe it, either. You butchered a python. Perhaps you are an abomination."

"I can't believe they still have no clue where Draco is. Aunt Minerva turned him into a tortoise, for goodness sake. How far can he have gotten?"

Severus smiled wryly and slipped his arm around her. It was late at night and they were leaning over the split-rail fence in the backyard. The stars were clear and twinkling in the black sky.

"I hate to leave this place," he said in an odd tone of regret. "It's quiet in a way I've never known - and it's pretty. I can't believe I'm saying that."

She nodded. "I'm so glad you like it. The skies are always blue."

"Yes, there certainly aren't as many of those skies back at Hogwarts," he mused. "Can you live with that?"

"Of course I can, if you're there. I'm just worried about Severus being there," she said softly. "I can't help but wonder if Albus is over-reacting."

Snape sighed. "He's not known for over-reacting. I'd trust him with my life. And, with the exception of you, I wouldn't say that about anyone."

"I'm honored you include me in that category," she whispered, kissing his cheek.

"Well, sometimes it pays to have a raving lunatic on your side." He kissed her in return. "Minerva told me how you nearly drove Madame Pomfrey out the window."

"I told you I sent her flowers. Ten times. She refuses to forgive me."

"I'm not criticizing. I'm proud of you. She undoubtedly deserved every word."

She shivered and leaned against him for more warmth. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry about everything. If I hadn't come to Hogwarts, none of this would have happened. Your powers have been badly damaged, Severus. Nearly gone. It's my fault."

His hands clamped on her shoulder. "You and I had no way of knowing how Draco would react. This is ridiculous. Your guilt knows no bounds. Get rid of your conscience; you'll be better off and so will I."

"But it's true. You respect the truth. I feel terrible. If I could undo it, I would."

His lips parted. "Oh you would?"

"I took your powers away. I took away what you loved."

"Yes, I was ecstatic."

She frowned.

"Potions kept me warm at night, and cooked me python, and made love to me, and had my son. I can see why you feel so justifiably guilty."

"It was a heavy price, Severus, no matter how you joke. I know what a price it was. I do cause disaster wherever I go."

"Malfoy did this; not you, Amelia. You have no blame in this. You came to the school for respite and recovery from your mother's death. Instead, you got a bitter, sarcastic, hateful man for your supervisor; plotting, nasty children; and bad food. You were as much a victim in this as any of us."

"You weren't any of those things. I loved you from the minute we met."

"You were heavily medicated."

"And now, if anything happened to you, or to the baby, I don't know what I'd do, Severus."

"Please, Amelia, nothing will happen to me."

She paused and then looked deep into his eyes. "Sometimes, I can truly understand how you became a Deatheater. If that horrible boy did anything to you or the baby, I might join them. I truly might."

He smiled, a bit tentatively. "One Deatheater in the family is quite enough, my dear. Let me worry about the baby. Unfortunately, until the mystery of his father is solved, he's under my care, and I won't let anything happen to him."

"It's not that you don't make me feel safe; it's just that there's something about Draco, and his mother. It's hard to describe, but I'm very afraid of them."

"You're very wise, my dear. That family has a dark history, and is quite content to continue the legacy."

"How could Albus be worried about Draco getting here? I mean, a tortoise crossing an ocean? We've seen a few unusual things in the last couple of months – but what if they're just coincidence?"

"It puzzles me, too. It's almost as if someone else was helping him, but I can't imagine who."

Somewhere, a coyote cried out, and she shivered. There was something unnerving about the sound.

Lighting a cigarette, Snape took a thoughtful draw. "It's hard to trust anyone. Draco has friends. His family is very prominent. Who knows what is going on."

She nodded regretfully.

"I'll wager they're none too pleased with Minerva, either. We'll have to take precautions for her sake."

Amelia nodded.

Severus noticed the deep regret and hesitation in her eyes, and took her hand in his.

"Let's talk in the morning. Maybe there is some way to stay at least a little while longer. It's not like I'm eager to leave. I'll miss this place – and our solitude."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"We'll come back as often as we possibly can. If we can ever get you through a port key, it will be nothing to come here."

Laughing weakly, she hugged him.

"Did you enjoy dinner, just a little?" she asked anxiously.

"I happen to have a conscience. An innocent python is now gone forever. I'll have nightmares for years."

"Well…he did eat the goose."

Severus smiled. "I suppose it wasn't bad. You can do well in the kitchen when you want to. I just wish you'd want to a little more often."

Glowing, she leaned against him. "There are other things I'd rather do."

"Yes, I'm aware of that," he said softly, pulling her closer.

"You know, this is our first Christmas together – when we're both conscious. Last year you were in a coma, and I was out of my mind. I didn't even know it was Christmas."

He laughed. "Come to think of it, I actually got you something. I forgot about it with our intruders; I mean, guests."

Her eyes brightened. She hadn't expected a gift. They rarely left the house. But she loved the presents he did give her. They were usually beautiful, old, magical and sentimental – all wrapped into one. And, of course, it was always exciting and fun to listen to him turn each one into an insult.

He reached into his pocket and handed her a gold locket. It was old and heavy and full of inscriptions.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, her eyes sparkling. "Was this in your family, or did you find it on the road somewhere?"

"The latter, as a matter of fact. I thought you might as well have it."

Smiling beautifully, she took it from him and admired the delicate artistry.

"You might want to open it," he noted.

Carefully, she undid the clasp and opened it, ever so gently. The light from his ember streamed across the small picture, which became clear as day.

Instantly, her throat constricted, as if the python's ghost had come for revenge.

"Oh my God," she managed. "Oh Severus…" And then she burst into tears.

It was a photograph of her and her mother, standing in front of their little farmhouse. It looked like Amelia was only 14 or so, and her mother was beside her, lovely as always, with her own long hair - and radiant, wistful smile.

"Oh Severus, I lost all my pictures in the explosion. This is a miracle."

"She was very pretty," he said softly.

He smiled a bit sadly, and she wrapped herself around him, like a python, and wouldn't let go for what seemed hours.

"How did you ever manage this?" she asked in amazement. "You must have gone to a lot of trouble."

"For you? Not likely. I have an old friend – never mind. Anyway, he owed me a favor, and he managed to get this for you."

"I only made you that cloak – and I got the collar wrong. I feel so guilty."

"Please, no guilt. Just for the holiday. I told you I found it in the street."

"You're…unbelievable. You've given me so many wonderful things. I remember the black orchids…and the opal, of course, and Severus Jr., and now this."

"You insist on living in a dream. It was cheaper and easier than going to one of those horrid department stores – and certainly preferable to another baby."

Wiping tears from her eyes, she nodded.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much."

He merely kissed her, clasped it around her neck, and enveloped her in his arms.


	28. Book 2 Chapter 3

BOOK 2: CHAPTER THREE

"Anyone for a sandwich?" Amelia took the gleaming cleaver and smacked off a healthy chunk of python for herself, slathering mayonnaise across some bread and tossing on a bit of lettuce.

Albus sipped his coffee. "I thought you'd never ask. It's marvelous."

Minerva and Snape looked at them, then at each other, and walked out of the kitchen.

Once again, Albus was holding the baby in his free arm, showing him around the kitchen and letting him touch various spatulas, cauldrons, jars of spiders, and herbs.

"Would you like an egg on top?" she asked. "I think it might complement the flavor."

"Thank you. It sounds lovely."

She kissed his cheek. "No wonder you're the headmaster. You're smarter than all of them. And more adventurous."

He only blushed and mumbled something.

Sitting down at the tiny kitchen table, and letting Severus Jr. crawl away, Albus appeared to become thoughtful.

"I've missed you, my dear. I want to apologize for accusing you of poisoning everyone."

Smiling, she shrugged. "You hadn't much choice. I would have done the same."

He nodded, but a shade of regret remained.

"But really, headmaster, don't you think you might be over-reacting in saying Draco's all the way out here?" She handed him his plate and sat down across from him.

"Amelia, I wish I could believe I was over-reacting. We've seen a few signs, that things aren't what they should be. I suspect you have, too."

Her forehead creased in concern. She wondered how he knew about those things. They were nothing in and of themselves; but after the first two or three, they began to wear on her mind, and on Severus'.

"You have seen them, haven't you?" Albus persisted.

Reluctantly, she nodded.

"What have you seen?" he asked.

She paused. "Little things, mostly. They probably don't mean a thing. I'm just a hysterical, new mother."

"That's not such a bad thing, my dear. The senses are naturally sharpened, as extra protection for your baby. Very magical. Even muggles have it; probably the only magic they ever enjoy."

She smiled and blushed. Severus, who had returned in curiosity, looked as distasteful as if Albus had just declared all of magic the work of Satan.

"So, what have you observed?" Albus asked them.

Amelia looked at Severus and swallowed hard. He sat down beside her, hastily covering the leftover snake with a plate.

"It isn't so much what we've seen. It's what we've heard," he admitted in a low voice, as if he were worried someone would hear.

Albus' eyes darkened.

"Sometimes, we'll go out for a walk at night. Something will howl; or a rushing sound in a bush," he added. "Nerves, probably. We've never seen anything to speak of."

Amelia nodded. "Our home isn't a large one, sir, but one afternoon, when I was in the kitchen and Severus and Severus were outside…I heard footsteps. There was no doubt. I thought it was Severus, of course, and went out into the living room. There was no one."

"But the door was unhinged," Snape finished.

Even the memory made her shudder and feel cold.

"And at night? Anything?" Albus asked.

Amelia crossed her arms.

"Just howling; probably coyotes. Sometimes a light flashes. But there are no cars that ever pass by here," she answered.

Sighing, Albus nodded. "I think it's time, then. This was a wonderful respite for you both, but it is time to move on."

Snape's lips tightened and Amelia's hands clenched nervously.

"I'm afraid, professor. I'm terrified of bringing my son to Hogwarts," she confessed. "He's so curious and active…what if he's in danger there?"

"He may be, but there are more ways to protect him – and you and Severus…Lord it's going to be difficult with two Severuses…anyway, I beg you to consider it."

She paused. "Of course. This isn't the first time you've kept me or Severus from disaster."

He smiled and their eyes met in mutual respect. It felt wonderful that someone like him would respect her – and she quickly looked down.

"I don't like the idea of running," Severus said bitterly. "Especially from someone as ridiculous as Malfoy."

"Severus, we're not running. We're staying safe to make a plan. And you, of all people, should know that he's powerful."

"Headmaster," she began tentatively, "whatever you can do, whatever magic there is at hand, please, please help my husband recover."

Albus nodded. "We all will, and with any luck, your marriage bond will expedite his recovery. He will recover, Amelia, I'm sure of it."

At that moment, Amelia thought she heard a faint cry from the front room.

"I think Severus may be hungry," she said. "I'll go check on him and come right back."

When she walked into the living room, she frowned. Minerva had drifted into a doze and this time, not one, but two snakes had wound around the baby, making him look like he was sticking his head out of a basket.

"You pythons are being very bad," she scolded. "Aren't you afraid of the same fate your friend had?"

As she looked at them, however, she realized something was wrong – and it wasn't the pythons. Severus didn't seem to be afraid of the snakes, but of something beyond them. And the snakes, with their heads held high as if they were ready to strike, weren't drooling over the baby – but were focused on something else.

She felt a breeze, and noticed the front door had come open just a few inches – possibly from the wind? And where were Severus and Minerva?

Slowly but surely, a roaring, like from the inside of a conch shell, filled her ears. Everything in the room faded out of view but the baby, the snakes and something else. Something small.

A tortoise?

"Severus!" she cried. "Oh my God, come quickly."

An instant later, the door flew open and Severus ran in, snatching up the baby from the snakes.

"Oh, Amelia," Severus said irritably. "They won't hurt him. They just like to play."

But then he saw beyond the snakes, to where the snakes' gaze was fixed. His shoulders slumped and he dropped the coffee cup he'd been holding.

Before anyone else could make a move, Severus raised his wand and commanded, "Reveal."

Sparks flew, pops cracked the air – and smoke began to rise – yet nothing but a tortoise revealed itself.

Albus, fast behind him, repeated the spell, with the same result.

Turning toward them in agony, Amelia raked her hands through her hair.

"Is it Draco?" she cried hoarsely.

Albus picked up the tortoise and shrugged. "I seriously doubt it. It doesn't look like the one back at Hogwarts did. Too dark. But we'll keep him, just the same. Let Lupin take a look."

Minerva sighed and held her face in her hands. Severus looked at Amelia, who fell speechless with distress.

"Let's just kill him," Severus said bitterly. "Why take a chance?"

"I'll get the shovel - or should we use the spade?" Her eyes glittered.

Albus frowned. "No, no. We must wait. So eager to kill...you really are made for each other."

Amelia and Snape looked at each other in question, and then turned back to Albus.

"We're taking him back," Albus insisted. "I want Malfoy alive. We may get some information out of him, if this is him. I have a feeling this is bigger than a boy getting back at his teacher."

"Headmaster, couldn't we torture him, a little, to get to the bottom…"

"No!" Albus thundered. "Remember yourself."

Snape just looked hurt.

"The snakes knew. Oh God, it was some kind of warning, or worse, wasn't it?" Amelia said darkly.

"We're not waiting to find out," Albus answered calmly. "We should leave for Hogwarts, now."


	29. Book 2 Chapter 4

BOOK 2: CHAPTER FOUR

"It's not as bad as I'd anticipated," Snape mused, as they gazed up at the stars, sparkling in the clear, black, Kansas sky.

Midnight was rapidly approaching over the abandoned corn field where they camped, and Amelia was relishing every last second. The stiff, frozen corn stalks whispered and swayed in the prairie wind like tall, thin phantoms. The moon shone bright and clear. Perfection.

Somewhere, not far from where they lay, and an owl passed over in a silent shadow.

"Isn't it wonderful?" she sighed. "Thank you so much for letting us come here. I couldn't leave without seeing it again, just once." Amelia's voice carried such gratitude, even Severus broke a smile.

"There's something about it," he agreed. "Did you see any ghosts this evening?"

"I can feel them. Isn't it scary? I feel so alive."

He nodded thoughtfully and kissed her hand.

Between them, their son was falling asleep, grunting and kicking on the pile of blankets Amelia had laid out. She smiled and kissed him at least a dozen times.

"I will say one thing in your favor: you're right about the light here. Hogwarts doesn't have that peculiar, orange light at sundown." He propped himself up on an elbow and dangled his pocket watch over the baby, who reached for it now and then.

Pulling the wool blankets higher, she sighed contentedly. The air was so cold and fresh, she could breathe it forever.

"He's the spitting image of you," she said softly, looking at her son in adoration and then at him.

"I can't say that I see it."

"Maybe we can conceive a child every year, right here," she dreamed.

"I knew you were worming your way into this subject. I just knew it. I felt it coming, like a tornado."

"You don't feel tornadoes coming, Severus. They just happen, suddenly, out of nowhere. Very…surprising."

"You're not very subtle. You're trying to be, but you're not."

Blushing, she kissed him. "The moon is out, it's a magical night, and we just made love in a haunted cornfield." She dissolved into self-conscious laughter and he sighed deeply.

Pulling her closer, he took her hand into his. The opal on her finger glowed and sparkled, even in the moonlit darkness.

"Kansas is lovely," he said gently, and kissed her forehead. "I suppose it wasn't so bad, your dragging us here."

Their tiny campfire soon flickered and disappeared, and darkness seeped into every corner the field; every row of corn; as the night deepened.

Nothing seemed to be awake now. The owl had settled down, the wind had dwindled and even crickets were sleeping.

Well, perhaps one thing was still awake. A small tortoise lumbered toward some destination or another, peeking out of its shell, in a nearby row.

-o -S- o-

"Is he finished yet?" Snape asked impatiently, fiddling with a couple of corn husks and frowning mildly.

Amelia leaned against him and yawned. "Almost. I'm sorry."

At last, Severus Jr. seemed satisfied with the three gallons of milk he must have consumed, and closed his eyes.

"He's in a stupor," Severus remarked. "He must weigh fifty pounds. Good God, all he does is eat."

"Yes, he does a lot of that," she agreed wearily, buttoning her blouse.

The sun was up, thinner and paler than it had been just a day ago.

They found a nearby restaurant she'd remembered, and soon became embroiled in the usual Sunday morning crowds. She'd had forgotten them, or perhaps had simply put them out of her mind; but now, amid the sea of paisley dresses and dark suits, unpleasant memories came rushing back like ants in summertime.

Oddly, something else, beside the crunch of people, felt uncomfortable about the diner, though Amelia couldn't quite put her finger on it. Then, she realized.

People were looking at them. They really were. She hadn't felt it for more than a year. But here it was.

Staring. Judging. Disapproving.

Disapproval, disapproval, disapproval. How she hated that word. She'd lived it most of her life, from the moment she had stepped off of her porch in the morning, until the moment she came through the door at night. And that was during the good times, after her father had left.

Today, she couldn't quite catch anyone looking; one never could. These people were experts. But when she would glance up from her son, or from Severus, she would see eyes suddenly blink, or dart another direction.

Severus wore a deep scowl, as he, too, tried to avoid eye contact with anyone. In all of their black, they must have looked like Halloween. That wasn't such a good thing. Halloween was about as welcome as a drought around these parts.

"Why, I don't believe it. Amelia Garrett," pierced a thin, penetrating voice from close behind.

Snape's eyes snapped to attention. He must have also caught the chilly inflection. With a nervous and very forced smile Amelia turned and instantly recognized the woman.

"Hello, Nancy," Amelia managed, paler by the second.

"My goodness, where have you been all this time? You up and disappeared on us, without even giving notice."

Amelia's expression darkened. "I…went on a long trip. There was a lot to do after my mother died."

"Apparently so. Are you coming back? It was very hard on us when you…vanished."

Severus froze, and his eyes deepened with dread and concern, as he watched a pane of glass near Amelia begin to quietly fracture from top to bottom.

"I…needed some time," Amelia replied, briefly as she could. "There was family business to attend to."

"I didn't think you had much family."

Amelia was finding it hard to breathe and was about to turn back, when Nancy went on.

"Oh, I'm sorry about your mother," she said, clearly as an obligatory thought. "I didn't know her, of course; none of us did."

Somehow, Amelia squeezed out another smile. Nancy studied her with a sharp eye. Amelia felt like she was standing before a firing squad, but there was one ray of hope. She felt Severus' warm fingers curling around hers.

"Nancy, let me introduce my husband, Severus. Severus, this is Nancy Johnson – the head nurse in my department. I mean, my former department."

Unsmiling, Snape barely nodded and did not extend his hand. Nancy's eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

"My goodness," she remarked. "A new baby, too?"

Severus instinctively drew his son closer; or rather, farther from Nancy, while Amelia clenched his hand so tightly she knew it must be cutting off his circulation.

"This is our son, Severus Jr."

Nancy paused just long enough to make things more uncomfortable than they already were.

"What a year you've had," she said, or, perhaps, evaluated. "I'm glad you could move on with your life so quickly."

Silence fell like a bomb and Amelia thought she was going to be sick. Severus pulled her a step backward, and any trace of color in his face disappeared.

"Let's go," he said softly, but she didn't hear.

"I hadn't looked at it that way," she replied unevenly. The crack in the pane splintered still further, until it ran nearly top to bottom.

"He's big. How much did he weigh?" Nancy asked pointedly.

Amelia took a breath.

"Ten pounds."

"Good heavens, did you overeat?"

"No. Quite the opposite, in the beginning."

"The opposite? You know poor nutrition causes low birth weight. You're breast feeding, of course."

"Yes."

"I might get away with killing her, being in America," he whispered.

But Amelia knew there were other powers just as strong – and living in Kansas. Not even that curse could stop Nancy, once she'd started. She was infamous for her "how to be a good mother" liturgy.

Hundreds of new mothers had been terrified by Nancy's litany of "correct ways" to care for a baby. Amelia had had to console more than her share.

"Gestational Diabetes?"

"No. Everything was fine. My husband mixed me a wonderful nutrition shake."

Nancy glanced at Severus. "Are you a pharmacist?"

"No. I'm a wizard and I live in a castle."

"Did they have to do a C-section?" She looked back toward Amelia.

"I once belonged to belong to a select group of wizards who specialized in the torture and murder of obnoxious people who asked too many questions; particularly, insufferable nurses."

"Why didn't you have us deliver him?" Nancy continued.

"Why does everyone ignore me?" Severus asked his son. "It's the curse of my life."

Amelia battled a smile and squeezed his hand. "I don't ignore you, but don't make me laugh right now," she pleaded in a whisper.

"I'm always right in the end, but nobody remembers. Why do I even exist?" he went on.

"Stop it," she begged, in another whisper. "It's bad enough without you joking."

But she knew he'd made the decision to harass Nancy, and nothing would stop him until he got to her.

Amelia turned her attention back to Nancy. "I had a very good doctor, Nancy. And he wasn't huge; the doctor was very pleased."

Nancy paused, still unimpressed.

"I wasn't there," Severus said dryly.

Oh God. He did it. That would get to her. Nancy glared at him. Amelia felt sick.

"You weren't there?" Nancy gaped. "You made her go through the delivery of a ten-pound baby alone?"

"It's undignified and, quite frankly, beneath me."

Well, that was it. He'd done it. She knew he would, and he did. Amelia awaited the explosion. Nancy's mouth fell open.

God, she was exhausted and it was only nine in the morning. Her head was throbbing. Snape's eyes were snapping with mirth while Nancy's were crackling with indignation.

And then, they were granted a miracle. They were called to be seated.

"I can't believe you said all that to her," Amelia said in a chiding tone, but her eyes were brimming with admiration.

"I shut her up, didn't I?"

"I love you so much. You're the bravest man I've ever met. You're my knight in shining, black armor."

"Yes, well, you needed one. I didn't know Dementors wore horrid paisley dresses and lived in Topeka. I think we just found a wife for You-Know-Who."

The warmth of his wonderful voice was like a gift from heaven. It seemed to bring her through the past and the criticism, and the darkness and back to him, and to their son, and to hope.

\


	30. Book 2 Chapter 5

BOOK 2: CHAPTER FIVE

Later that afternoon, they stood, alone, in the small cemetery that stood just a bit outside of town. The pale afternoon light seemed to make everything gray or brown. Including the simple, granite headstone that marked her mother's grave.

Why she should feel so empty, she didn't know. Wasn't she coming home to her? Wasn't this as close as she could get to her? Now, here she was, gazing at a simple marker, all by itself. Even in death, her mother was isolated.

Memories flickered in her mind. How pretty her mother was. How kind, and even funny she could be. How the sun reflected off the highlights in her hair.

Did she deserve to be alone in a field after all of that goodness? Out on this stark prairie, with that unrelenting wind that always blew and blew and blew, until you wanted to scream? They said the wind could drive you crazy. She believed it.

Amelia wasn't aware that tears were staining her cheeks. If there were only some way to keep her mother company. It was so awful for her to be alone. Was Nancy right? Had she "moved on?" Is that what she'd done? Had she deserted her mother – or forgotten her…perhaps like she had that night that everything happened…

If only she could sit with her mother just once more – just to tell her she loved her. Or, maybe it would be better to die - to lay beside her, and keep her company. Atone for deserting her that awful night…

"What was her name?" Severus asked quietly, derailing the runaway train roaring through her mind.

Amelia felt his arm glide around her waist and she leaned tiredly against him. The baby was in his other arm, and she blinked back a few of the tears and kissed them both.

"I miss her, Severus. I miss her so much. She shouldn't be here. It's so desolate. She must be so lonely."

She began to cry, and covered her face in shame and regret.

The baby gazed at her curiously. She realized he had never seen her cry. Now, almost as if by instinct, he remained very quiet.

Severus pulled her closer, and she wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in his chest.

"Was Nancy right? Did I forget about her? I didn't mean to do that. I should have been there that night…"

"Nancy will not live to see another winter. You have my word."

"That's sweet, but what good would it do? Don't you think my conscience still says the same thing to me every day?"

"I believe we went through this one long night after you gave me a nasty welt on my cheek," he said. "It's bad enough dealing with your infinite guilt, but if you listen to one word that ignorant muggle said – I don't know what to threaten. No more babies. That should do it."

She looked down and shivered.

"Come over here. I can't handle the both of you at once."

They walked over to a nearby bench, and he handed her the baby.

"Your mother would adore him," Severus noted. "Maybe she sees him now."

Amelia smiled, and actually felt herself relax. "I hope so. It's so lonely here. Her life was so much more than this and nobody knows, or remembers."

"You do. Minerva does. I do. Our children will. Everyone who matters. Does it have to be an army?"

Amelia sighed and he kissed her softly and slipped his cloak around her shoulders.

"What was her name, my dear? You've never told me."

She smiled a little more brightly. "Anna."

"Anna?" His voice seemed amused, and she gave him an odd look.

"What's the matter with Anna'?"

"Well, it's not very…I mean…"

Bristling just a bit, she just waited.

"Never mind. It's lovely. It's the best name in the world."

"Now you're trying to save face, like I always have to," she smiled.

"Well, Anna and…Minerva? They don't really match. Shouldn't it have been Athena and Minerva? Or Aphrodite and Minerva, or Diana, or…"

She smiled. "My grandmother named my mother, and my grandfather named my aunt."

"That doesn't explain anything."

She sighed. "He was some sort of linguist at the Ministry of Magic, and he loved Latin. But my grandmother was a staunch Englishwoman."

"I still don't understand."

"He picked a Latin name; and she picked an English name."

"Ah, I see. Very clever."

She smiled a bit smugly. "My grandfather actually came up with a lot of those Latin terms you all call everything."

"No, he didn't."

"Yes, he did."

"They're descended from ancient Roman wizardry, Amelia. Around the time of Julius Caesar."

"Oh please. My grandfather dreamed them up on a bet - in some pub in Diagnon Alley."

He frowned deeply. She stifled a smile.

"Really, Severus…_Experiamus?_' What on earth does that mean? It's not even conjugated correctly."

"This is too heartbreaking. I don't want to discuss it."

"May I get back to mourning my mother, please?" She shifted her son to the other side. "I come out here, to mourn and cry –"

"And to feel sorry for yourself. Don't forget that."

"Well, yes. And you two follow me out here, so on top of everything else, I can feel embarrassed.  
"My dear, dear Amelia, your mother isn't here. Nothing's here but a few prairie dogs. You're wasting your time." His voice was quiet and firm, and she knew it was no joke.

"I can be close to her here," she whispered.

"Nonsense. We should go - and never come back."

She stared at him in horror. He didn't so much as blink.

"Your mother isn't here."

She refused to look at him.

"Where is she, Amelia?"

She looked down hatefully.

"Look at me - and tell me."

"In Heaven," she said grudgingly.

"So there's no sense in your standing on an open prairie crying."

She paused. "And, she is with us, isn't she?"

"Yes. You can ask me a hundred times a day. I'll give you the same answer."

Smiling, she crossed her arms and felt cold for some reason.

"Don't look for her in the wrong places, Amelia. People make that mistake everyday. I made it, and it only leads to misery and frustration."

She dabbed at her eyes and slipped close to him. "You always know just what to say."

"Then I'll say this: we don't belong here, anymore than I belong teaching kindergarten. We should go - and never come back."

Tears pooled in her eyes, as she looked at the headstone, and then back to him. He did not relent or take anything back.

"All right," she whispered, knowing he was right, as he usually was. "Let's go."

He smiled and she kissed him softly.

"I will miss the fields," she mused.

"I'll design you the scariest, most haunted cornfield you could imagine - in the desert, or at Hogwarts, or wherever the hell we wind up."


	31. Book 2 Chapter 6

BOOK 2: CHAPTER SIX

"I can't believe I'm on… a plane," Severus groaned, as they entered the last hour of the flight to London. "It's a total humiliation. Only people like you take planes."

Amelia's eyes danced as she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"We did get to fly in first class," she attempted. "Most people find it very nice. It's my first time."

"Nice? This food? What in the hell is this?" He picked up a "snack pack" and she burst into delighted giggles. He squelched a smile and went on. "And what is this meal? It looks like something you would make. My God, I think it's python."

She covered her face with her hands and tried to catch her breath, which was difficult because when he went on like this, he was so funny, she came very close to fainting, which just made him keep going.

"Now look what you did - you woke him up," he groaned, as Severus opened his large, dark eyes and began to yawn. "Lord, he's so heavy. You hold him awhile." Snape handed her the baby, who was already fussing to be fed.

"He's hungry." She blithely unbuttoned her blouse and let him go crazy. Snape's mouth fell open and he quickly covered her with his cape.

"Amelia, have a little modesty," he remarked in a hushed voice.

She merely shrugged. "Modesty goes by the wayside when a baby comes along. My, he's hungry. I can't keep up with him."

Snape closed his eyes to block the scene. "He's just manipulating you. He'll do it until he's eighteen, if you let him. You spoil him horribly."

"Well, I love it. The doctor said he's doing wonderfully."

"Of course he is. All he does is eat."

"Yes, I'm a victim in my own home. I just give and give and give, and the men in my life use me mercilessly."

"Well, be glad you're good for something."

She smiled thoughtfully and looked over at him with large, earnest eyes.

"No. Don't start. Please," he begged.

"You've given me a life," she whispered. "You've given me everything – a reason to live, a beautiful baby, yourself."

He yawned. "I have motion sickness. Please don't add to it. I've been using you for my own purposes, just like the baby. Anything you get is purely incidental."

She nodded and kissed him softly. He kissed her, and laid a hand against her cheek.

"Thank you for taking me to Kansas," she whispered. "I won't go again."

"Your mother is with us, my dear, not buried in a field."

She smiled pensively, while Severus Jr. finished up and smiled up at them. Her eyes widened and began to go their bluest blue.

"Hello," she greeted warmly. "You're such a good boy. Are you finally full? For fifteen minutes, at least? Oh, you're so handsome, like your father when he isn't being horrible."

Snape closed his eyes. She patted Severus Jr.'s back and he burped loudly. Snape winced and she could not help another laugh.

"Yes, your father is grumpy, but he's wonderful. Don't listen to him and you'll be fine. Yes, you will. I never listen…"

Bouncing him on her lap, she beamed with pride as he began to giggle.

"Oh Severus, he smiled. Yes, he did." She kissed her son again and again. "He has the best smile in the world. Oh, yes you do. You really do. I love you so much."

"Are we there yet?" he asked darkly, and she burst into new laughter.

A flight attendant passed and smiled at them.

"He's adorable," she said glowingly. "Is he your first?"

"Yes," Amelia replied softly.

"That's wonderful. You two are so blessed."

"He's not mine," Snape said acidly. Amelia shook her head in defeat and leaned forward.

"Yes, he is. My husband is having denial issues. We're planning on ten."

Snape leaned forward. "May I change seats? I've never seen this woman before in my life."

With a puzzled look, the flight attendant passed.

"Why would she pry into our business?" he complained.

"She was just being nice. People usually make a fuss over babies. You might as well get used to it."

"It's nauseating."

She only smiled to herself.

"Pardon me, but are you planning on buttoning your blouse, or are you just leaving it open to save time?" he muttered.

Blushing, she quickly complied. Then she leaned back and closed her eyes.

"I hope I can get through that damned platform nonsense," he worried. "Now I know how you must have felt."

Nodding, she smiled. "You may get a pretty nasty bump on your forehead."

He frowned. "I just hope Severus doesn't get hurt." Then he frowned more deeply. "Why did you have to name him after me? It's horrible having to say my own name all the time."

Her eyes sparkled. "I love that name."

Their eyes met, and he leaned forward and so did she, and they kissed softly, and their hands intertwined.

"You're going to wake up one of these days," he said softly.

"I'm not asleep." She looked deeply into his eyes and smiled. "I'm so happy."

He kissed her hand and held it tightly.

"I'm a little afraid of going back," she admitted. "Draco, and Narcissa…"

He nodded. "I won't let anything happen."

She smiled, certain he meant every word.

"Do you think Severus will like it there?" she asked.

"Without a doubt. Hagrid can show him all of the animals, and Hermoine and Minerva will fuss horribly over him."

She nodded thoughtfully and the plane began its descent.


	32. Book 2 Chapter 7

BOOK 2: CHAPTER SEVEN

The moment had arrived. They stood together in the silent, snowy mist. The school loomed over them, dark and secret, dimly lit. There was a lonely feel all around. The strange limbo between Christmas break and the second term.

With just a sliver of moon, the massive castle seemed to blend with the darkness – to become part of it. Before them, water gently lapped against the moat, while patches of ice floated here and there.

"Are you ready?" she asked softly, taking his hand.

His lips tightened. "No."

His forehead wore a healthy, red welt from the platform's brick wall – just as hers had, over a year ago. He'd been sick and miserable on the train. So sick, he'd even apologized to her for being so brusque after her first trip.

Now, she just waited, patiently, feeling her eyes begin to sting in a mixture of emotions – the strongest of which was anger.

Why did this have to happen to him? Potions and magic were everything to him. Hadn't he been through enough sadness for one lifetime? He'd worked so hard; and done so much good with his talents. Damn Draco…if she died trying, she would make things right again.

"It looks…different," he murmured.

She mustered an anemic smile. "It has never looked like it should to me, but there is beauty there."

He nodded, rather unconvinced.

Forcing a smile, she offered, "If I can recover, anyone can. I'm not doing so badly."

He drew his cape around her and pulled her close. "Amelia, I don't know if I can do this. I'll be a laughing stock; a true laughing stock."

Looking down in regret, she bit her lip. "I don't think so. They respect you far more than you know. Even Harry."

"Only because I terrorize them."

Her eyes filled with moonlight. "They always come back for more. I certainly never saw empty seats - like I did in some of the other classrooms."

"They come for the demonstrations and experiments. Parlor tricks to most of them."

She smiled thoughtfully. "I never saw a single spark, and I was mesmerized every minute."

His lips twisted wryly, as they usually did, and she prepared for some kind of dry reply – but he paused.

"You were, weren't you?" he asked quietly. "I used to watch you taking notes. I couldn't believe you were so interested – but you really were."

She blushed and slipped her arm through his. "You're the best professor I've ever had - because of your genius and your love for the art; not because you can wave a wand over a cauldron."

He kissed her hand and kept it close to his heart.

"You and your maudlin philosophy. All right, I suppose there's no choice."

Laughing softly, she slipped her arm through his and they began to head through the doors.


	33. Book 2 Chapter 8

BOOK 2: CHAPTER EIGHT

"So in conclusion, my case is a classic example of how traumatic, unexpected repercussions arise from a poorly executed plot. It's laughable, really. Once, a group of Death… I mean, colleagues, and I concocted a brilliant scheme…"

He detected puzzled looks from many of the students and stopped abruptly.

"The point is, I didn't mean to depress you with my personal problems, but from time to time, I'll need a few volunteers to help make the potions. Not many of you are up for it, but I'll struggle to find one or two."

It was the snowy, first day of the new term as Severus concluded his rather dramatic speech on how and why his powers had suffered.

There were a few yawns. A couple of coughs. An awkward silence. Someone dropped a book. Then, a hand crept up into the air.

He looked at the girl and frowned. "Are you volunteering?"

She smiled tentatively. "No."

"What, then? You're wasting time."

"Well, sir…may we see the baby?"

His eyes darkened and he stepped back. "What?"

"Please..."

"There is no baby. Stick to the topic. Five points, Hufflepuff."

Another hand shot up, followed by another.

"Is he walking yet?" called out a voice.

"How should I know?"

"How old is he?"

"I can't remember."

"Why are those snakes always around him?"

"Why did you and Mrs. Snape have a baby?"

"Will he go to Hogwarts?"

"Will he get free tuition? My mother says there was too much of an increase…"

"Are you going to have more? Spacing them two to three years apart is best, but at your age, you might want to…"

"I babysit, but I deal in pounds; not Gringotts."

"Does he look like you or Mrs. Snape?"

"Can you bring him here to visit?"

Snape's initial expression of shock was replaced by one of horror, tinged with disbelief.

Another hand shot up.

"Is he magic?"

"Is he cute?"

"Can we pleeeeaaasseee meet him?"

"He doesn't exist. He's just a rumor," Severus managed to snap.

"Pleeeaaassseee…"

"Does he wear black?"

"Is he nice, like Mrs. Snape; or mean, like…"

"Silence!" Snape shouted, and they suddenly looked down and cringed.

"No more about the baby. He's just a baby. I can't recall what he looks like or what he does. He does things babies do. As I was saying, some potions may have to be made by…"

The door creaked open and Hermoine appeared at the top of the steps, emblazoned in the pale, January light behind her.

"Look who I found," she gushed, beaming with pleasure and holding up Severus Jr.

All heads snapped around, and Snape closed his eyes and looked down.

The next second, all that could be heard were screeching chairs, thundering feet, and squeals of delight, as the girls surrounded Hermoine like hyenas around an unfortunate gazelle.

The boys remained in their seats, giving one another puzzled shrugs. Tossing his quill up in the air, Snape threw on his cape and walked out the other way.


	34. Book 2 Chapter 9

BOOK 2: CHAPTER NINE

Pythons and Parsel

"_This_," he held up Severus Jr. as if he were displaying a distasteful species of frog, "is all your fault."

Severus Jr. just smiled, and a thin sliver of drool began to drip from his lips to Snape's collar, almost as if he were spinning a web.

"Why, Amelia?" He wiped his collar distastefully. "Why?"

Her eyes brightened as she came up from behind and slipped her arms around him.

"It's a lovely story. It all started over a year ago. It was a beautiful Halloween night. I started to dance with this handsome, man in black…"

"Touching. I thought they'd be shocked; perhaps even traumatized, by my magical misfortune. But all they wanted to do was see him." He tucked the baby back into the crook of his arm.

Amelia fought a smile. "They say teenagers are so shallow, these days. I suppose it's true."

"You're damned right it's true. Nobody even volunteered to help me cast the spells."

"I can help." Her eyes danced with anticipation.

"I meant _within_ this century."

She frowned. "Maybe my powers have improved. We could try."

"My dear, you know I want more than anything to help you refine your magic; but not in the classroom. Lives are at stake."

"Perhaps if I had a wand," she mused. "Yes, I'll bet a wand would help me."

"You'd kill us all. I only wish you hadn't murdered that poor python. He was a good medium, and…"

Her eyes clouded, and she looked down in deep remorse.

"What's wrong now?"

"Oh Severus, that poor snake was only trying to guard the baby and I…misjudged. I feel so ashamed."

"You should die of shame. Anyone would assume a python constricting around a baby was only trying to protect him."

But his humor was lost on her. Her eyes began to grow huge, and glittery blue with tears. Seeing the oncoming wave, Snape desperately tried to backpedal.

"No. No, he was a bad snake. He only pretended to care. He…"

But the bottom had fallen out, and she was plummeting. He raked a hand through his hair and set Severus down.

"I feel so guilty," she wept, clinging to him like a…python? Good God, that was all she could think about.

Snape yawned. "Amelia, please. It was bad enough having to endure the meal in the first place, without its being followed by a ridiculous bout of conscience."

She only wept harder.

"I killed – butchered – a python who was probably just protecting my son."

"Just take your pills," he muttered, gazing up to the heavens, no doubt in some kind of prayer for peace.

"I ate him, and I enjoyed eating him. Not only because I did a very good job preparing him, but because it made me feel…avenged." She buried her face in his cloak, which was, between her and Severus Jr., quickly becoming soaked.

Harry, who still crouched over a book nearby, glanced at Severus and quickly averted his eyes, but not quickly enough. Was that amusement she detected?

By now, Snape was holding her in his arms, and she felt his body began to tense like a board. Was he about to cry, too? She looked into his eyes. He was pressing his lips together, but failing to conceal quite all of the smile that was battling its way to his lips. Harry let out some kind of snort. Her mouth fell open in indignation as her mood swung back the other way.

"You're laughing at me?" she exclaimed. "You and Harry are laughing?"

Snape couldn't help himself. The dam broke. He exploded into ripples of laughter, and Harry followed.

"You're both horrible," she said bitterly.

They only laughed harder and Severus pulled her close.

"What do we do with this murderess, Potter? Should we call in the Dementors? Sentence her to Azkaban?"

Harry nodded. "I think that is the only choice, sir."

Snape smiled. Amelia could only shake her head in disgust. Then, Snape paused thoughtfully, as an odd light entered his eyes.

"All right, I'm tired of this. Potter, you speak Parseltongue. Make yourself useful, for once, and tell the pythons she's sorry."

Amelia sniffed. "What are you talking about?"

Harry smiled. "I can talk to snakes, ma'am. Do you want me to say something on your behalf?"

She managed to compose herself. "Yes, oh yes. Please, it's the least I can do."

So Amelia, Harry and Severus walked over to the corner, where the snakes were lounging – and knelt down. A couple of them looked up curiously.

"What do you want me to say?" Harry asked, a small snort escaping his lips.

Amelia pondered. "Please tell them that I am so sorry I killed their friend, or brother, or whomever he was…and that I thought he was planning to eat my son."

Harry became very quiet; very focused, and then began to whisper, almost inaudibly, to the snakes. Though it was soft, the whispering had a hypnotic effect, an Amelia felt herself riveted by the intonation and rhythm of the language.

"Anything else?" Harry asked.

"Tell them I'll do anything to atone; and that I'm so very, very sorry. And please thank them for protecting the baby when that awful tortoise came in."

Again, Harry complied. Severus began to drum his fingers.

"And tell them that…"

"This is ridiculous. You've apologized. We're wasting our time," Severus snapped.

"Please tell them that their friend did make a good Christmas dinner, and he did, after all, eat the goose, so we hadn't much choice…"

Harry took a deep breath and continued. Even the snakes' eyes began to glaze over and one let out a sigh – or was it a yawn?

"And, if they want, I'll prepare them chicken, or whatever they like, every night."

"You don't boil water for me. Now you're accommodating the damned snakes?" Snape demanded.

"Are you sure, Mrs. Snape?" Harry asked.

She nodded, so he squared his shoulders and resumed. Shaking his head, Snape walked away.

The snakes gazed at Harry; then at one another; then over to her.

"It's all right, ma'am," one of the pythons said, plain as day. "You were just trying to protect your little one. Plenty of people think we're up to no good, but we like your little boy. Can't say the same about your husband. No offense, of course. But we'll look out for the baby."

Amelia smiled brilliantly. The snake paused and then went on.

"Chicken would be lovely, but we only need it once every week or two. We prefer it raw."

She patted their heads and both she and Harry stood up.

"You heard them, didn't you?" he asked.

She nodded. "I didn't know they could talk; much less, speak English."

"They can't, ma'am. They speak their own language. You were able to understand them…that's wonderful and quite rare. Only a _select few_ have the gift." He fired Snape a smug smile.

Whipping around, Severus glared at both of them.

"You heard them?" he demanded.

Amelia froze and then shook her head in the negative, but his scowl deepened.

"My God, what are you?" he muttered.

Ignoring him, she smiled warmly at Harry.

"Thank you so much. I feel a bit better."

Harry smiled, gathered his things, and left.

Snape looked at her bitterly and snapped open a book, ignoring her for the rest of the evening.

-o -S- o-

"So, you understand the snakes," he said gloomily, as she brushed out her shiny hair in their chamber, late that night.

"Oh Severus, really. What good does it do? You all get so tied up in knots over these…trifles."

But his tone remained gloomy.

"I think you're a spy, from some other bizarre planet, plotting against us."

She just smiled and kissed him.

"They don't care for you," she needled.

"Who on earth does?"

"I do." She kissed him again. "I'm crazy about you."

"You just use me for children."

"The snakes said they'd strangle you if you were mean to me."

He only shook his head and gazed out of the window, smoking thoughtfully.

Slipping into his lap, she laid her head on his shoulder.

"They have a nice way of speaking, like you," she said. "It was wonderful to hear them."

He shrugged and looked back outside.

"Are you angry with me?" she ventured.

Sighing, he blew out a ring of smoke. "No, no. You're just very intriguing, my dear; very perplexing."

"It's not all it's cracked up to be," she said, in a whisper of regret. "I know it's hard on you. I appreciate your patience. I hope I don't embarrass you."

Taking her hand in his, he kissed it softly. "My dear, I didn't marry you for your formidable power. I married you for…"

But the next words did not come. Just silence.

"Yes?" she asked, a bit impatiently. Good God, he was wracking his brain...

"Well, for…"

"Oh my God," she groaned.

"I don't really know. I was forced; or backed into a corner or…I can't remember - but it certainly wasn't for your magic."

She sighed and played with the fingers on his hand.

"Are you really going to force me to compliment you tonight? You know how I hate to. It's very hard to think of them."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired."

"Amelia, don't listen to your lunatic father. If you're a mistake, we're all doomed."

Wiping a couple of frustrated tears away, she slipped her arms around him.

"I'm actually envious of you," he admitted. "I've always wanted to speak Parsel. Potter can, _of course_. I could kill him for that. And now, you."

"I'd give it to you in an instant," she said, in the deepest sincerity.

"I know," he said quietly. "You're the only person who has ever given me anything."

She smiled. "I hope I at least make you happy. That's all I want."

"Well, let's not get carried away, but I'm far less miserable than I was – except of course for the baby debacle, but most of the time; well, maybe half of the time…"

"Stop it," she grumbled, but her eyes brightened about ten shades of blue.

"Maybe Severus will be able to understand Parsel," she hoped aloud. "He certainly loves those snakes."

"Yes, wouldn't that be wonderful," Snape sulked.

For awhile they sat quietly, enjoying the moonlight and how it illuminated the snow, which drifted down to the ground. She began to drift off to sleep, but didn't quite make it, because he pulled her closer and asked a question.

"Would you possibly do me a favor?"

She yawned. "Anything."

"Would you perhaps…try… to teach me to understand the snakes?"

His eyes had filled with emotion – hesitation, anxiety, envy, even a little embarrassment. She realized he had never asked for her help before this moment. In a way, she realized, his coma was probably the "best," if you could call it that, catastrophe to befall him. Had he been conscious, he'd probably rather have died than allow her to care for him. It must be killing him to ask her now.

Cupping his face in her hands, she smiled warmly. "I'll do my best. It's the least I can do. You've taught me so many wonderful things."

"What? To wear black well?"

Her lips twisted. "You've taught me about potions and special ingredients – and introduced me to a new frontier of elements and chemistry."

He smiled vaguely.

"And more important, you taught me to let go of my grief, and how to be with my mother in a spiritual way." She kissed him softly and he smiled.

"Oh yes, and you taught me…"

"I have the point."

She smiled buried her head in his shoulder.

"If I teach you to communicate with the snakes, will you do a small favor for me?" she began to wheedle.

"On second thought, who wants to talk to snakes? What do they know, anyway?"

She burst into delighted laughter and blushed.

"I know what you're going to say, Amelia, and the answer is no. Just as it always has been."

"Are you sure? The snakes know so much about potions. They're so wise. They're often called…supremi potionarum."

"What?" he gaped. "You're raving. Lying and raving."

She couldn't answer him, she was laughing so hard.

"You're making this up; and completely butchering your Latin. Worse than you butchered that snake."

"The pythons know all the latest potions. They told me so."

"I'm going to bed. Never mind the snakes."

"I think motherhood has a link with Parsel, Severus," she persisted, tumbling in beside him.

"I think motherhood has a link with insanity."

"The more children one has, the better one becomes at the language."

He gazed hopelessly off into space.

"I confess my weakness, and confide in you; humble myself at your feet – and you turn it into blackmail."

She leaned over him and kissed him softly.

"All right," she smiled. "I'll teach you Parsel."

* * *

_Authors Note: I'm glad you are all enjoying this. Thanks again for your reviews! Have a wonderful holliday!  
_


	35. Book 2 Chapter 10

BOOK 2: CHAPTER TEN

"Professor Lupin, I know you like to tweak my husband's nose, and I admit he deserves it now and then; but this time, you've really gone too far." Amelia huffed into the lounge the next day, slamming the door and slumping down across from him.

Puffing thoughtfully on his pipe, Lupin gazed off at the ceiling, almost as if she weren't there.

"Why didn't you marry me?" he mused. "I wouldn't make you wear the same dress - every day of your life."

"Professor, please…"

"I'm serious. That dress is eating away at my sanity. Truly. Everyday, I see it. Everyday. I hate it. I want to burn it. May I burn it, Amelia? May I?"

Totally mystified, she could only stare at him in question.

"I love this dress. It's classic," she finally answered, giving him a quick twirl.

"Good Lord," Remus grumbled.

"Now please, I just went into the lab to prepare some of the ingredients for the next class. Severus is going to have a relapse if you don't do something quickly."

"Promise?

"Please, professor, I'm serious. How could you have done such a thing?"

His forehead clouded as he noticed her earnest, turbulent eyes.

"I don't understand, Amelia. It's a bit cleaner and better organized than you two left it. Will that really upset him all that much?"

Crossing her arms, she frowned. "It's yellow. You forgot that small detail. How can you stand that awful, canary yellow? I have a headache and I was only in there ten minutes."

"What are you talking about?" he sulked. "I left it as dreary and depressing as you two always kept it."

Her eyes darkened. "You know…you tormented him as a student here; but even so, he's making you the anti-coyote…I mean, anti-werewolf potion. Did you have to desecrate his classroom? Was that really necessary?"

Grudgingly, he climbed to his feet and shook his head. "I swear to you, Amelia, I did no such thing. Perhaps another student…"

"How? I don't smell any fresh paint."

"Let me see," he said, finally getting serious.

They hurried down corridors and around twists and turns until they came to the large oak doors. Hastily, he unlocked them with the old key and they swung open.

The overhead lamps were still lit and she had to blink a couple of times to take in that screaming, horrid yellow.

"See…dreary, as usual. Were you lost, Amelia?" Remus asked curiously.

She paused.

"Lost? No. Don't you…" A sudden wave of cold streamed over her, like a bucket of icy water poured over her head. Shivering, she backed up a couple of steps.

"Amelia…I don't see any yellow," Lupin repeated slowly. "I don't think color or cheer could survive in this dungeon. It's rather anti-cheer, or anti-color, like your husband. You know, like anti-gravity, or anti-matter. Severus is what you might call anti-…"

"Having a rendezvous already?" Snape asked icily, banging the door closed. "Isn't the laboratory rather obvious, even for you, Lupin?"

Amelia looked down, tears forming in her eyes, and her shoulders stooping, as if she had the weight of the world had collapsed upon her shoulders.

"What's wrong?" Snape demanded.

"She says the room is yellow," Lupin answered in a low tone. "Do you see anything, Severus?"

Judging by his concerned eyes, she knew the answer even before he opened his mouth.

"It's happening again," she whispered, before he could utter a word; almost to prevent him from saying something. Something like, she was mentally incompetent. Like she was hopeless. Like she was a burden. Like she should go away and never come back.

"I'm losing my mind," she said in a croak.

"Amelia, wait…" Severus attempted, but a bit too late.

"I'm going to have to be hospitalized, like I was after my mother died…"

Snape's eyes clouded. Lupin glanced back into the room and than at her. He was no longer the carefree Lupin. There was doubt, and she knew it was doubt of her. Gently, Lupin laid a hand on her shoulder.

"It wasn't a regular hospital, Severus…" Her voice died as she began to weep.

Snape's eyes blackened, while hers caught fire.

"They'll take me away, and I'll never see the baby, or you…"

Snape smoothed her hair and looked desperately at Lupin.

"Things are going to start breaking and exploding, Remus. Tell me what's going on," he begged.

"She thought I'd played a prank on you," he faltered. "She swears the room is a horrible yellow."

Snape glanced at all of the walls. Still gray, or black stone. Stained with dampness here and there. Quite nice, all in all.

"Do you still see the yellow?" Snape asked gently.

She nodded. "Yes. I can't stand it. I'm going to be sick."

A lamp fell from its hinge and crashed onto the floor, its glass splintering and spraying everywhere.

"I don't see it," Snape replied in a whisper.

She broke into more heaving sobs and began to collapse.

They helped her up the steps and out of the door, closing it tight. At once, she began to feel better and calmer. The pounding in her head began to slow down, and she held tightly to his hand.

"It's screaming yellow, everywhere in there," Amelia said brokenly. "It's almost fluorescent. I'm going crazy."

"You weren't crazy with the food-poisoning," Lupin said matter-of-factly. "Why would you be going crazy now? With the possible exception of being married to a Deatheater, of course, but it hasn't been that long…"

"More likely, the fear of being devoured by a werewolf," Snape fired back.

"I'll be back in a minute," Lupin politely excused himself, and Severus and Amelia sat down on a bench, just outside, in the courtyard.

The day was freezing and damp, but she hardly noticed. It just felt so good to be away from that room. Gradually, her thoughts came more into line – and a glimmer of optimism returned.

"I'm a lunatic," she said blackly, clenching her hands and looking away. "I hate this. I hate myself. I'm so tired of being this way. I should go back to that hospital and stay."

"I don't understand," Snape ignored her. "Minerva mentioned that you were hospitalized after the explosion, but she said nothing about its being a psychiatric facility."

"My aunt is very discreet."

"My God," Snape said in a barely audible voice. "My God, Amelia, why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"For awhile, I didn't remember."

"And then?"

Her lips tightened. "I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid that you'd…send me away."

"Send you away?"

She nodded brokenly.

"You graded hundreds of papers quite competently. Why on earth would I have sent you away?"

"If you knew I'd been in a psychiatric facility, you might not have given me a chance to work with you; or to know you."

His eyes narrowed. "How dare you. I always give people chances, with the possible exception of Potter. How can you think so little of me?"

"I'm sorry, but I am your assistant. You have a rather unique manner about you – and I suppose I misinterpreted it."

"That's the understatement of the year. Doesn't anyone realize I'm stern because I care?"

"Yes, well…"

"I'm so tired of it," he groaned.

"If you want me to leave now…I understand." Her voice broke.

He could only shake his head in disbelief. "Of course, because with my immaculate pedigree, I'm in such a position of moral superiority."

"I only meant that…"

"You really do have a judging issue, Amelia."

Tears began to pool in her eyes. He was right. Not only was she certifiably insane, she was judgmental. Lovely.

"I don't want you to leave." His words were firm and beautiful.

Leaning against him in exhaustion, she smiled and took his hand. "I love you. I'm so sorry."

Pulling her closer, he fastened his cloak about her shoulders and let her calm down for a few minutes. Gradually, to her surprise, she did calm down – and began to lose some of the panic she'd felt.

"Who put you in that institution, Amelia?"

"All I know is that I woke up, strapped to a bed. I was probably ranting and raving after the explosion, and it's all they could do."

"Hmm, very merciful."

"Sometimes, I wish they'd have thrown away the key."

"You know you don't mean that. If they'd thrown away the key, you wouldn't have me; and you wouldn't have Severus."

She nodded, and wiped her eyes.

"What else have you kept from me? Perhaps that you're You-Know-Who's daughter, or some other trifle?"

"No. Nothing else. I promise."

"Here we are," Lupin said cheerfully, returning with Severus Jr. in his arms. "He can cheer you up if anyone can."

The baby smiled and held out his arms to her – and she cried out in delight and swept him into hers – kissing him a thousand times, and holding him like she'd never let go.

But Snape was deep into the problem and would not let go. He seemed quite worried, and bothered.

"Your aunt – she knew you were in a psychiatric hospital?"

"She got me released, actually."

"Well…perhaps she can shed light on who put you there," Snape said.

"Maybe. She's an interesting woman. Just when you think you have her all figured out - you don't."

He smiled vaguely. "That obviously runs in the family."


	36. Book 2 Chapter 11

BOOK 2: CHAPTER ELEVEN

"What's this about, Severus?" Minerva asked, looking disapprovingly at the disarray of potions and test tubes cluttering his various shelves. "I'm late for class."

Snape stood up and forced a smile. "I have a question about Amelia. You may be able to shed some light on it."

Minerva shrugged uneasily. "I'll try."

"She was very upset at something she saw."

"You mean…in you?" she laughed merrily at her own joke, while Snape's face remained stone. Adjusting her cape, she collected herself.

"I really have no idea what Amelia sees and doesn't see, Severus. Every new thing she does mystifies me more than the last."

"The point is, having that vision terrified her. She thought my lab was bright yellow, and she's afraid of going insane. She told me she was placed in some horrid psychiatric hospital after her mother died."

Silence fell like a heavy, thick, dark veil. Minerva clenched her hands together and looked down.

"That is correct," Minerva said evenly.

"Who put her there? Certainly not you."

"No, certainly not."

"Then who?"

Minerva leaned forward. "Severus, I don't know if I should reveal that."

"You won't leave until you do," he said quietly.

"You'll have the person drawn and quartered or some other hideous, Deatheater torture."

He sighed and raised his eyes to the ceiling. "I'll never atone enough for you. Ever. I've spied. I've risked my life time after time for this school – but nothing will satisfy you."

"You atone by marrying my niece?"

"Well, depending upon how one looks at it…"

Minerva was not smiling at his humor.

"Oh Minerva, she's happy. She adores the baby and she tolerates me. How can you begrudge her a little joy?"

Minerva paused. "All right, all right. I'm sorry. If you must know, her father admitted her."

His lips tightened and he swallowed hard.

"And if you tell her, Severus, you'll kill her. She knows he despised her – but she doesn't know…to what extent."

"Good God, and she has no idea that he admitted her?"

"No. He's a horrible, horrible man…a religious fanatic to shame Torquemada. He slapped her in so quickly…I came as soon as I heard."

Severus crossed his arms and stared at her in horror. "But there must have been some reason. You can't simply commit someone."

Minerva looked down, and quickly wiped her eyes. "Unfortunately, he had a reason, and he took every advantage."

Snape's face darkened. "What was this reason?"

Minerva winced and drew her cape close about her shoulders, continuing to brush tears from her eyes. He stepped closer.

"Tell me, Minerva. I'm her husband. I also have that truth potion and I'll use it; I swear I will. I don't care what Albus says."

Minerva looked down.

"Severus, she'd cut her wrists."

"What?" he barely managed.

"After the house exploded, they found Amelia, on the lawn, bleeding. They rushed her to the hospital, where her father appeared out of nowhere, and committed her."

"She told me she'd cut them running chicken wire." He took out a cigarette and lit it with shaking hands.

"You believed that? You?"

He sighed. No. He never had. Especially after he'd given her a disappearing ointment that, oddly, hadn't worked.

Minerva sat down tiredly. "Anyway, be careful. She seems to have no recollection of it. She genuinely believes it was chicken wire."

He took a long draw, finished the cigarette and lit a second. "She's been through worse than me."

"Perhaps. That's the only reason I can fathom that she feels such a profound bond with you."

He frowned.

"Sorry. No offense. Anyway, it was over a year ago. She's here, and she worships you. I suppose that's atonement enough for me."

Snape smiled gently.

"Just don't mention her father."

"What happened to him?"

"I don't know and I don't want to know. I only saw his signature on the admission papers. Horrible scrawl. It took me forever to forge the release forms."


	37. Book 2 Chapter 12

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 12

"Let me see your wrists," Severus said evenly, as she was getting ready for bed that night.

Backing up a step or two, she crossed her arms, already starting to feel the warmth and strength trickle from her body. Like water, or blood. Yes, more like blood. Blood that ran down…

"Amelia…" his voice echoed through.

"Yes?" she asked, unevenly.

"Let me see your wrists."

"Why?"

"Because I want to see them."

Very reluctantly, she held them out and he looked them over. She usually wore long-sleeved blouses, but tonight, her arms were bare – and the scars were there - deep and horrible.

"We never could get rid of these," he said quietly.

"Well, you know how I'm a bit resistant to some of the spells around here," Amelia said, scrambling for any words she could remember.

"Chicken wire did not do this," he said darkly.

Blinking, she backed up a step and knocked the side of the vanity, accidentally overturning a bottle of perfume.

Her breathing came in more ragged, uneven rasps – and her mouth went dry and cottony.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Obviously. But I do. So we will."

She took a deep breath, sat down on the side of the bed, and tried not to pass out.

"Why did you keep this from me?"

Horrible nausea began to wash over her, from head to toe, and she battled it back as best she could.

"I told you about my taking poison. Why the hell couldn't you tell me the truth about your wrists?"

"I…don't know what you're talking about," she attempted, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I…was repairing a fence, and…"

"My dear…" but his voice died.

"Yes?" she asked desperately. "Yes?"

Her eyes had filled with pain and confusion and all she could do was stare at him, and wait.

"Amelia…"

But she could only stare hopelessly.

"You truly don't remember?" His voice was instantly gentle, and his eyes burned into hers.

"Why would you say these things to me?" she whispered.

"Because…I love you, and I don't want it to happen again. I know what happened, Amelia. I forced your aunt to tell me."

She blinked tiredly and slumped down on a chair. He knelt down in front of her.

"Sometimes, I…have nightmares about a bathroom, and a razor…but I don't remember anything except cutting them on fencing."

"Fencing?"

"And being strapped to a stretcher – and the Novocain shots hurting. It hurts when they stick your wrists, Severus. There isn't much fatty tissue there – and it hurt so badly…"

He paused. Her eyes were so filled with pain and confusion – it was unbearable to look further

"All right," he said softly, taking her into his arms. "Let's get some tea."

--

Slumped at one end of the endless, deserted faculty table, sipping the strong tea he'd brewed, Amelia felt a little warmth seeping back.

Wearily, she leaned her head against his shoulder, hoping what he said wasn't true, but knowing that it somehow made horrible sense.

"I'm certainly glad you didn't bleed to death," he said dryly, lighting the third cigarette.

"I wouldn't be so glad," she said blackly.

He leaned forward. "What the devil do you mean?"

"You've known me a little over a year, and I've turned your life upside down."

He smashed out the cigarette and leaned forward. "This place is always upside down. You've given me the only happiness I've ever felt. Ever."

She blinked away more tears that were fighting to the surface. He reached for her hand and clasped it in his.

"Everyone here loves you. You've given this dreary place a little life. A little warmth."

"A little chaos, you mean."

He merely shrugged. "So what? This place is always in turmoil. If it weren't over you, it would be over something else."

"I should go into the desert."

"Nonsense. If anyone should go, it's Potter. Look at the maelstrom he and his cohorts stir up. Let Potter go."

Weakly, she laughed and leaned against him. He smiled gently and took a thoughtful puff.

"I'm just begging you, my dear, don't ever do anything again. Next time, it might be just before you discovered another baby was on the way – or the day before Severus Jr. took a step, or…"

She sighed. "Or just sitting here with you. Or kissing you. I don't want to leave you. That's reason enough."

He sighed and kissed her hand. She began to calm down, and she actually managed a smile.

"I don't know why I can only think of chicken wire. We didn't have chickens. We didn't have a fence made of chicken wire. We didn't even have a garden with chicken wire."

"Perhaps it's just as well you can't remember."

"Do you remember the night you tried, Severus?" she asked gently.

"Flashes and shadows. The taste. Albus' face. For months and months afterwards, I hated Albus. He watched me; he removed certain ingredients from the potions closets. But, worst of all, he made me live, everyday, with feelings I couldn't bear."

"When did you start to like him again?"

"Bit by bit, over time. And now, I'll be grateful to him for the rest of my life."

"Really?"

"Yes. It's ridiculous. Horror and death and blackness and suicide – and a day later, all it takes is a woman with pretty eyes and a penchant for tripping on staircases to make you change your mind."

She blushed. "An evil wizard, with a wonderful face and an incredible voice, can have the same effect."

He took her hands in his, turned them over and kissed both of her wrists. They felt warm and wonderful. In just a few seconds, the scars had faded.


	38. Book 2 Chapter 13

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 13

The following morning, Snape reluctantly unlocked the laboratory door and pushed it open, inch by inch. Just as reluctantly, she peered inside for a split second and then stepped back against him.

"Still yellow?" he asked glumly.

She nodded slowly. "Yes. I'm sorry."

"Yellow…why would someone use yellow as a weapon?"

She shrugged and looked down. "Someone who wants us to be separated, I suppose. We can't work together in there. I'll be sick five minutes into it."

"What the hell is the significance of yellow?" he wondered aloud. "Why would that scare you? I mean, I know it's a horrid color, but other than that, why?"

She shrugged. "I hate yellow. I hate it more than anything."

He nodded. "Any reason you hate it?"

"No. I just feel like it's…gaudy and loud and surrounding me…awful."

He smiled. "It is awful. I've ruined you with all of the black."

She smiled dreamily. "Black is wonderful. You're very right to wear it."

He laughed and kissed her .

Shuddering, she slipped her arm around him. "I'm nervous, though. If I'm not crazy, then Draco may be behind this – which means he's out there somewhere."

Snape nodded. "Pity some owl didn't eat him, but I'm afraid you're right."

"But how on earth will we find him?" she asked in frustration.

"We may need help," Snape answered pensively. "Perhaps I'll pay his mother a visit. We're old friends."

She paused and eyed him curiously. "You are?"

He swallowed hard and adjusted his collar.

"What do you mean 'old friends?'" she probed.

He smiled archly. "You are the most jealous woman I've ever known."

"Hopefully, you haven't known too many," she grumbled, playing with the ties on his cloak.

"Oh Amelia, it was nothing. I used her a couple of times when Lucius was off trying to destroy things."

"What?" she gasped.

"I've made no secret of my dark past." He smiled smugly.

She looked down. "…was it spiritual?"

"It was purely physical. You know, like what we have…but better."

"Thanks, so much," she sulked.

"Thank God you didn't die that night," he chuckled. "It's so much fun whipping you into a frenzy. It really is."

Laughing, she blushed and looked deep into his eyes. "I know you think it's spiritual. I understand that men just can't say those things."

"That's it, precisely."

"May I come with you to see her?" she begged.

"Why?" he asked. "You don't know her. What interest would you have?"

She smiled. "Oh, we've met."

"What?"

"We had a lovely chat after you'd been attacked."

His eyes narrowed. "Really?"

She smiled. "Yes."

His eyes narrowed further. "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing much, really."

His eyes darkened suspiciously. "Amelia…"

"I really can't remember specifics, Severus, but I'd love to see her again."

"I don't like the sound of this," he muttered.

"I'd love to see her house. You've told me how scary it is."

His smile faded. "Amelia, she's dangerous – and crazy. I don't want you going there."

"I'm more dangerous than she is. And crazier. Please…please let me come."

He eyed her curiously and then nodded. "No explosions. Promise?"

"I'll do my best." She smiled sweetly.


	39. Book 2 Chapter 14

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 15

"No. Absolutely not. We're not watching him again. He's too big and he rolls around like a loose cannon. He nearly crushed me last week."

Amelia frowned and crossed her arms. "I'll give you an extra chicken…"

"No. You're an awful cook, anyway." The python tried to bury her head under her coils, but Amelia pulled it back.

Kneeling down, Amelia made her eyes large and pleading. "Please, just watch him. We won't be gone all that long."

"No. I'm going out that night."

"I haven't told you what night it is."

"The baby plays too rough. I'm exhausted."

"Well, can't your brother help you? Or what about your uncle; the one who always hides under the couch except at mealtimes." She lifted the black dust ruffle and frowned at the old snake. "Don't think I don't notice."

"We're too old. The baby is too much for us."

"Nonsense. You snakes live forever. Just tell him stories and get him to relax."

"Relax? He's so spoiled and rambunctious…he listens for two minutes and then wants to wrestle."

"He's a boy. Boys like to wrestle. It's lovely."

"It's exhausting."

"You wrestle for your food."

The snake's eyes rolled. "We don't have any hands. You think we constrict for pleasure? It's exhausting – and then we need to rest; not entertain a spoiled baby."

"The chickens I feed you are already dead. You don't need to constrict."

The snake paused in slight confusion, and then looked down.

"You should be more grateful. You could be out in the Amazon right now, having to catch your own prey – and being bitten by piranhas."

"Good God, you don't even know your geography. We're from Burma, stupid."

Amelia bit her lip and blushed at her error.

"You exploit us horribly. Stay home with your baby. You're an awful mother."

Amelia's mouth fell open in indignation.

God, she hated Parseltongue. Why did so much in her life have to backfire? Here, she receives the "gift" of communicating with snakes; the supreme honor…and the only talkative snake is obnoxious and condescending. Her name was some kind of unpronounceable snake word. Amelia had named her Nancy.

"Please, Nancy, it's important," Amelia began to wheedle.

"No. It's not fitting. You're both too busy kissing and joking and botching potions to do anything right. What am I, anyway, a nanny?"

Amelia's eyes clouded. "Well, sort of. Yes, you are, actually. You're all protectors. Very special, gifted protectors."

"You're trying to con a snake? You really are insane."

"I'm not insane. I have a few issues."

"Well, resolve them on your own time. I never get a moment to myself. When I was a new mother, I took better care of my little ones."

"You can remember that far back?" Amelia seethed.

"You're hysterical half the time, and your husband is the grumpiest father I've ever seen."

"You're about one inch from becoming dinner. My husband is a perfect father and loves the baby more than his life. And I'm… trying to stabilize my moods."

The snake laughed and laughed.

"Oh, for goodness sake, I'm trying my best. I can't take the pills while I'm breast-feeding."

"Then stop breast-feeding, take the pills, and do us all a favor."

"I don't want to stop."

"You should be feeding him solid prey; I mean, food."

"Mothers' milk is best, and it's very special bonding time."

"Bonding-shmonding. My children were foraging for their meals right after they were born."

"And you criticize _my_ mothering skills?"

"You don't read to him nearly enough. You're supposed to read to babies."

She paused. "You're right. On that point, you're right."

The snake nodded archly.

"Kipling's always fun," Amelia mused.

The snake's eyes shifted uneasily.

Amelia smiled sweetly. "How about _Rikki-Tikki-Tavi_?" That's my favorite."

With a long hiss, the offended python lowered her head and refused to meet Amelia's gaze any longer.


	40. Book 2 Chapter 15

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 15

"Well, Severus, it's been a long time," Narcissa Malfoy said moodily, sipping tea from the dainty, monogrammed cup. "How are you?"

Snape shrugged and crossed one leg over the other. "Alive, I suppose."

Her house was an enormous, stone morgue. The inside was as cold, or colder, than the outside. Narcissa's eyes were blue ice, and her thin, white fingers surrounded her tea cup like skeleton fingers. Only the thin blue veins beneath betrayed any sign of life.

"I can't believe you actually married. We all had a great laugh over that."

"I'm sure you did," Snape replied coolly.

"Your wife is very devoted, I'll grant her that. She was very concerned about you after the…accident. Very, very concerned."

Nodding, Severus smiled. "She's full of youthful enthusiasm. I'm sure, when it wears off, which it will, she'll wish she'd never laid eyes on me."

Narcissa shrugged. "Enthusiasm' is putting it mildly. I've seen calmer at our rallies."

"Tell me about it," he asked coolly, though his voice betrayed an uncharacteristic curiosity that Narcissa, luckily, missed.

"Oh, Lord, she looked like a complete Banshee and acted like one, too. Hurling insults and medical orders…scaring everyone to death. I nearly cried when she was done with me."

He set his teacup neatly in its saucer. "That's terrible. Crying - and you – it seems like a contradiction in terms."

Narcissa's features hardened. "I'm still terribly upset. Professor McGonigall should be dismissed for casting that spell. Or sent to prison. Our horrid judicial system slaps my poor husband in Azkaban, while she roams free, abusing innocent children."

"Minerva was trying to save my life, Narcissa – and that of my wife. Draco had enough poison in those syringes to kill a Hippogriff."

"You're all overreacting," she retorted. "It was a boyish prank. I'll swear an oath, you teachers are the most paranoid group I've ever known."

"Paranoid? He stabbed me with a syringe full of poison meant for my wife."

"…unjustly punishing students; blaming parents for your weaknesses, and incessantly complaining about low wages."

"They're damned low," he bristled. "I'm going to have more children to support, if Amelia gets her way, and I really don't know how we'll make it."

Her eyes rolled. "Why on earth did you marry her?"

Snape paused thoughtfully and lowered his voice. "Albus baited me. You know how he hates me. He dared me to marry her. He truly did, and I…lost my mind in a moment of weakness." Snape looked down and his shoulders slumped dramatically.

Narcissa's eyes filled with compassion. "I completely understand. Dumbledore's so irritating. Let me get you more tea."

Brokenly, Snape nodded.

She hurried to the sideboard and poured him more tea. In a flash, he removed a small vial from his pocket, tapped three drops into her cup, and slipped the vial back into hiding.

Narcissa handed the cup back to him, and he smiled gratefully.

"I feel terrible for you," she remarked. "You should really return to the fold. You're underappreciated at Hogwarts. You always have been."

"Well, I have the baby to think about," he murmured. "Albus promises he'll get free tuition if I stay."

She took a sip. "Ah, the baby. What on earth possessed you?"

"Nothing. I think she found him somewhere."

"He looks just like you."

"She cast some kind of spell."

"She can't cast spells. She's a…"

His eyes flickered and Narcissa stopped, her forehead creasing as if she were surprised at her own candor.

"She's a what?" he asked softly.

"She's…chaos…utter chaos." Narcissa sat back sleepily.

He shrugged. "Be that as it may, I'm worried for her safety."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about her. I'd worry about everyone who comes within two miles of her."

"Nevertheless, I am her husband and there have been a few, disturbing incidents lately. Have you had any word about Draco?"

Nodding toward the conservatory, she shrugged. "He's in there."

Snape's forehead creased in confusion. "What?"

"In the conservatory. Right behind you."

Suspiciously, Snape turned and looked. The room was empty.

"Narcissa?"

"In the box, near the piano."

Snape rose from the chair and walked into the glass-enclosure that adjoined the sitting room. There sat a large cardboard box, filled with straw, leaves and grapes.

"Here?" Snape gasped.

Narcissa yawned and finished off her tea. "Yes. He wandered in a few months ago."

"My God, why haven't you gotten Minerva to reverse the spell?"

Narcissa slouched in her chair, closing her eyes.

"Well?" Snape persisted.

Yawning comfortably, she smiled. "I'll get to it. I've been a bit busy lately."

"Narcissa…you can't be serious."

She refused to meet his gaze, looking up toward the ceiling, over toward the fire – any direction but his.

"You can't just leave him as a tortoise," Snape exclaimed incredulously.

She shrugged carelessly. "Oh Severus, I just…need a bit of a break."

"A _break?_"

"He's doing wonderfully. The veterinarian says he's the picture of health." She smiled smugly and took another long sip.

He gaped at the box. "Oh my God…"

"My, I feel relaxed. Nothing like tea to make everything better. I love tea. It's England's greatest drink."

Snape just kept staring. She scowled.

"Don't look at me that way. There's no harm in it, really. Draco's always been such a headache. Between him and Lucius, I've never had a moment's peace."

Picking up the tortoise, Snape gave it a disgusted glance and put it back.

Narcissa laughed recklessly. "You'll want a break – when your son goes to that joke of a school and starts getting unfair marks and nasty notes sent up from his teachers."

"But…"

Her eyes glittered wildly. "As a matter of fact, when I end my hiatus, I believe I'll engage a tutor for Draco. Then he won't have to associate with the likes of Hermoine Granger."

"Please, Narcissa, let's not get into that."

" - I knew things were going downhill when they started accepting mudbloods. There went the neighborhood." She threw back her head and giggled like a schoolgirl.

"Miss Granger is a gifted and talented witch, Narcissa." He knew he shouldn't goad her during the spell, but couldn't help it.

"She's a disgrace – and I don't want my Draco developing feelings for her. He always talks of her, and if he marries her, I'll go insane. Have you heard her incessant prattle? I'd be dead in a week."

"But what about grandchildren?" Severus asked, surprising even himself. God, was Amelia's obsessive fixation on babies somehow rubbing off?

"I'd rather have baby tortoises." Again, she dissolved into gales of laughter.

Snape shrugged and tried to keep calm.

"Albus really must be strapped," she remarked. "Next, he'll be opening the place for muggle tours."

Severus shrugged. "You can't blame him. Castles are expensive to maintain, these days, especially with the taxes. And they're not getting any newer."

Narcissa merely yawned.

"Has Draco been turning any rooms yellow lately?" he asked blandly.

Narcissa closed her eyes. "Yellow? He's a tortoise; he can't do anything but eat, thank God."

"Then, who's behind all these pranks?"

"Ask my beloved husband." But then she yawned and slumped over in her chair, in a deep slumber.


	41. Book 2 Chapter 16

BOOK 2 CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"You gave her the wrong dosage?" Amelia asked, as he relaxed beside her on the train back to Hogwarts. "You? The supreme potions master of the world?"

"Yes, well, I've been in a coma for awhile," he looked down guiltily. "It was all your fault."

Her forehead creased in alarm. "My fault?"

"Of course. You're the one who came to Hogwarts. If you hadn't come, Malfoy wouldn't have been upset; and I wouldn't have had to save you. Everything really boils down to you."

Amelia's eyes sparkled and she hugged him tightly. "I suppose your right."

"Of course I'm right."

She kissed him. "But I could have measured the dosage for you, if you'd let me come to the house. I could have done it by gauging her weight. I can tell how much anyone weighs, within a couple of ounces."

"Well, aren't you wonderful," he groused. "Anyway, she didn't know much – except that she prefers her son being a tortoise, like we all do. She said Lucius may know something; but he's in Azkaban and nobody can go there."

"…where is Azkaban?" she asked curiously.

"Far away," he answered briskly.

"Please, Severus, don't be secretive. Where is it?"

"I don't know. It's on an island, far away from here, thank heavens. The Dementors guard it. Nobody comes in; nobody goes out. Except prisoners, of course."

"Didn't that wizard, Sirius Black, escape?" she inquired.

"Yes, and a few others. Let's just say, they've tightened security."

She cringed. "It sounds horrible."

"It is horrible."

"Why do they use such cruel and unusual punishments?"

Snape smiled sardonically. "We commit cruel and unusual crimes, my dear."

"But still…"

"You cannot compare our two worlds, Amelia. In a traditional prison, evil wizards like myself could escape in about ten seconds – and they have. Over time, the Ministry of Magic developed Azkaban. For all of its faults, you wouldn't want the inmates anywhere else, I promise you."

She sighed tiredly. "It seems a bit extreme, if the Dementors are really as bad as you say."

"You should see some of the wizards and witches they guard," he murmured. "If there were any other way, we'd use it. But that has yet to be developed."

"There are similar places," Amelia said darkly.

He paused and looked at her, in some measure of pity.

"I'd like to go there and talk to Mr. Malfoy," she said quietly.

"No."

"Please…"

"I forbid it, and I won't relent, no matter how long you nag and wheedle and whine. I love you too much."

Nodding tiredly, she looked down. She debated what she was about to say, but finally went ahead.

"Did you ever go there, Severus, seriously?"

"No, thank God. Things weren't so bad when I defected. If I'd remained with the Deatheaters much longer, I'm sure I'd be a resident."

"I'd have come to visit you."

"You probably would have." He sighed deeply and lit a cigarette.

"I'm not afraid of going there to talk to Lucius," she offered softly. "I'll do anything to stop these awful pranks. I'm terrified whoever it is will turn on the baby."

"I will not allow that."

She looked down and nodded.

"If we have to, we will, but I think we can bide our time awhile before we resort to doing something from which we may never recover."

-----

Amelia didn't know if she'd fallen asleep, or if darkness had settled in, but when she opened her eyes, she glanced out of the glass doors of their compartment.

Was that Severus outside, looking in? No. Something was wrong. The figure did not have his stature or dignity. It was dark and draped in black – but the shape was odd. As her vision cleared, she realized that this figure was not Severus but a tall, hooded specter. Was it floating? Was it really there? It was hard to tell.

The only things she could really make out were that it was tall and black and flowing. Visible, yet invisible - almost ghostlike. Ghosts. Was her mother a ghost? Could she see her – sit with her? Did she see Severus Jr.? Somehow, Amelia immediately felt drawn to this creature, as if it were an old friend. Perhaps it knew where her mother was.

Without thinking, she gazed back at the figure, smiling curiously. The sound of the tracks and the engines gradually faded into nothing, except perhaps the sound of the sea.

Had someone called her name? Was that fear in the voice? She didn't know. And who cared, anyway? Who cared about anything?

She slid the door open and stood directly in front of the apparition. Curiously, she looked into its face, or the darkness that should have been a face - and felt as if she were floating, herself.

"Who are you?" she heard - perhaps not through her ears, but through her mind.

It was not a beautiful voice, like Severus'. It wasn't a human voice. But she understood perfectly. Something in its tone made her hesitate to reply.

Strangely enough, she was not afraid. Not at all. In fact, warmth and happiness flowed into her as if she'd been hooked up to a happiness IV.

Unable to speak, she gradually broke into the widest, most brilliant smile she'd ever had - with the exception, perhaps, of the birth of their child and their wedding day; and when he told a joke or teased her, or kissed her. But even so, the smile was high in the brilliance scale.

Incredibly beautiful memories came rushing back to her all at once. Sunflowers, pumpkins, corn stalks, pumpkins at Halloween, horses, her lovely mother; the birth of the baby, meeting Snape at the train station, his lips on hers, dancing with him, making love with him, getting an A in anatomy class - every wonderful memory she'd had.

"Who are you?" the voice repeated, without speaking.

Warmth crept through her every bone. All of the guilt, the doubt, the mistrust and the pain of her life seemed to dissolve. And then, the creature dissolved into a billion fragments and blew away.

Suddenly, her thoughts shattered like so much glass. She felt herself flying backward and falling. Falling into something cushiony, with a dull, sick plummeting feeling in her stomach.

No, no, she thought. She didn't want to leave this moment. This figure. Who would be so cruel as to pull her away?

When things came back into focus, and the sounds of the train filtered through her ears again, she slowly made out Severus' face above her, a ghastly gray, like a corpse of himself.

"Amelia," he gasped in sheer panic. "Are you all right? Oh my God, this is terrible." His shoulders slumped, as if he'd seen her die.

Blinking, she took his hand and smiled deeply.

"I'm fine."

His entire face darkened in horror.

"We should get you to the hospital. Why the hell do they let those God-forsaken things walk the trains…"

Sitting up, she stretched and blinked tiredly.

"I'm fine. I don't need a hospital. I feel wonderful. Why are you so upset?"

When he'd helped her back into the seat, covered her with his cape and put a stiff hot brandy in front of her, he cupped his head in his hands.

"Please, tell me what's wrong," she whispered. "I've never seen you like this."

He looked over at her in agony and sighed. "My dear, promise me something."

"Yes, anything."

"Promise me you'll never, ever walk up to one of those creatures again – no matter how tempting it is. Swear to me."

"They can't be that bad. He seemed rather sweet."

"Amelia, it wasn't a he or a she. It was a Dementor. You've met one. They can kill you with one kiss."


	42. Book 2 Chapter 17

BOOK TWO: CHAPTER 17

When Amelia and Severus were finally back on school grounds, late that night, she felt amazingly refreshed.

"You know," she said thoughtfully, taking his hand, "we've never really been out before – as a couple."

"What did you like most: Narcissa or the Dementor?"

"Just being with you." She kissed his cheek and wrapped herself around him.

He slipped his arm around her as they crossed the bridge.

"I feared I'd been replaced by another Severus in your affections," he said, a bit wistfully.

She slipped her arms around his neck. "Never. Never in a million years. No matter how many children come along."

He said nothing, but remained very quiet. Very pensive.

"I'm sorry if I've been preoccupied with the baby," she said softly. "I'm new at all of this. Believe it or not, he was quite a surprise. I'm sorry if I've neglected you in any way."

He smiled. "With all of your faults, Amelia, neglecting me isn't one of them. I'm fine."

"I love you," she whispered, and reached up and kissed him softly.

His arms slipped around her waist and he lifted her off of the ground, drawing her very close, his lips seeking hers with urgency and intensity.

For what may have been minutes or hours, they remained there, drinking from one another's lips – whispering secrets – making promises – and laughing at little things.

Finally, when an owl flew past, or a raven crowed or something finally interrupted them – they smiled and joined hands, heading for the doors.

They strolled inside, where the torches and chandeliers had dimmed. Everything was silent and still. Their steps echoed on the stone, while shadows played on the vaulted ceilings.

When they arrived at the Gryffindor tower, most of the students had retired for the night, but there was Harry, in the common area, playing with Severus – and several large frogs that seemed to delight them both to no end.

Both were on the floor, giggling and making the frogs jump from one line to another. Amelia looked on thoughtfully.

"Hello," Harry said, smiling. "Back so soon?"

"It's two in the morning. Why isn't he in bed?" Snape said tersely.

"It's the weekend, professor, and he had a long nap."

Snape's lips twisted suspiciously. Amelia just smiled.

"Did he behave well for you, Harry?" she asked.

"Oh yes, ma'am. He's loads of fun."

She smiled proudly.

"What about you? Did Professor Snape get out of hand in Diagnon Alley? Did they have to throw you out of the pub?"

Snape smiled acidly. "I believe you're off duty. Here." He tossed him a couple of black sacks. Harry's eyes lit up.

"If you tell anyone they're from me, I'll have you expelled."

Amelia smiled and picked up the baby. "You're up way past your bedtime," she whispered adoringly, kissing him and hugging him tightly. "You've kept Harry up far too long."

Harry only smiled. "It went by in a flash, ma'am. Really. We're good friends. I'll watch him any time."

"Thank you, Harry," she said warmly. "He just adores you. You have a way with babies."

"You're welcome, ma'am. We get along rather well."

"Did he cry?" Snape asked dryly. "He always cries when I try to pick him up."

Harry smiled. "Not a bit, sir. It's called kindness. Babies respond to it."

"Really. Take him, then, with my compliments."

Amelia shook her head in defeat.

"Don't listen to them, Severus," she whispered to her son. Snape scowled.

"Harry…" she began, and then looked at Severus with an odd, very pensive expression, and took his arm.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"You have a special rapport with our son. I've seen it. Many times."

"Thank you, ma'am. He's a good boy. A true Gryffindor if there ever was."

"How dare you. Gryffindor just lost…600 points," Severus snapped.

Amelia ignored them both. "What if…I mean, would you possibly consider…"

She leaned over and whispered her thought into Severus' ear. His face tensed into raw horror.

"Oh, Amelia…" he whispered, or better, croaked. "No. Anyone but him. _Anyone._"

"I feel it, Severus. He's the one," she said gently.

There was a light and conviction in her eyes that would not fade. For just a split second, she saw him look back, meet her gaze, and nod.

Harry's face clouded in question. Snape turned away.

"Harry," she began delicately, "would you please consider doing us a great honor?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Would you consider being our son's godfather?"

Harry's lips parted and he froze. Just froze. Stiff as ice. Amelia smiled graciously.

"You're so good with him, and you've survived so much. I think, should anything happen to us, he'd be safest with you."

"Couldn't we at least check to see if Satan is available?" Snape muttered.

"Look no further, professor," Harry said brightly. "I would be deeply honored, Mrs. Snape. Honored beyond my wildest dreams. This is the highest honor of my life. Higher than the Quidditch match against Slytherin, or the Goblet of Fire, or surviving Professor Snape's potions classes…"

"How clever you are," Snape hissed.

Amelia hugged the baby in joy, while Severus looked increasingly suicidal.

Harry walked straight over to Snape and offered his hand. "I suppose I'm part of the family now, sir."

Snape stared furiously at Harry and then at Amelia. In a whirl of black, he flew out of the room, slamming the door.

"Thank you, Harry." Amelia whispered, kissing his cheek. "I know he's in good hands. So does my husband."


	43. Book 2 Chapter 18

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 18

"My God, you're making all of my worst nightmares come true," Snape complained, staring into the blackness, later that night. "Potter: my son's godfather."

She yawned and kissed him.

"Think of that very sentence, Amelia. Three nightmares in four words: Potter; a son; Potter as his godfather. Did I ask for any of those things?"

"Of course you didn't, and I'm really sorry," she said absently, playing with his fingers.

"You are not. Perhaps you are a Dementor. That's why you get along with them."

"We really should have his christening soon," she said, smiling and slipping her arm around him.

"Do you want Albus to do it?" he asked casually.

"Can he? Is it some type of magical ceremony?"

"He can; or we can go down to the church," Snape replied neatly.

Her forehead creased and she sat up. "Church? I didn't know you all went to church."

He smiled wickedly. "Our Lady of Hogsmead."

"You're joking," she said, tumbling over on top of him.

"There you go, judging again."

"Lord, you're right. I'm so sorry. I'm really going to have to work on that."

"Don't work too hard. I never go unless I'm threatened or paid."

"But Severus, how can you be Catholic? You all practice _witchcraft."_

He paused to consider. "Yes…but we feel very guilty about it."

Laughing hilariously, she smiled and kissed him again and again.

"Besides," he mused, "everything's witchcraft' before it's understood."

She nodded thoughtfully. "True, but I still think you're just making this up to give me a hard time."

"Ask Albus if you don't believe me." He smiled in anticipation of the outburst he knew was coming.

"You're horrible. You know we should have had a Catholic wedding."

"We did. Albus is a Jesuit."

She froze, unable to even blink.

"Surprised?" He began to roar with laughter. She hit him with the pillow.

"This is insane," she muttered. "Just insane."

"Yes, especially when the rest of this place is the epitome of normalcy."

"You're as bad as they say. You kept this from me all this time?"

"I try to keep it from myself, Amelia."

"Oh my God," she murmured.

"Oh don't be so sanctimonious. You're Catholic, and you never told me."

That was true. Maybe she, too, had tried to put it out of her mind.

"I'm…sorry," she said contritely. "I should have told you. I don't know why I didn't. But…how did you know?"

A wicked smile crept across his face. "Oh, let's see…you're riddled with guilt, you're always apologizing – and you want ten children. If that's not Catholicism, what is?"

She could only dissolve into laughter and kiss him about a hundred times.

"My dear, why do you think I'm such a wreck? I spent the first five years of my schooling with the nuns. And we worry about Dementors…"


	44. Book 2 Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

Amelia leaned against the large picture window, very early the following morning, holding Severus Jr. in her arms, and intermittently humming to him, kissing him and hugging him.

He gurgled and smiled sleepily, and she just held him all the closer, kissing every inch of his sweet face.

"You are so wonderful," she said somewhat softly; somewhat sadly. "You are so sweet and good. I'm so sorry I'm such a mess. I don't mean to be…"

She buried her lips in his hair and tried to avoid letting the tears fall, though a few made their escape.

Unbeknownst to her, Severus the senior was standing in the shadows, looking on, about to step nearer and greet her, but apparently thinking the better of it.

"Your father is a great man," she went on. "He's a genius in his field, and he's overcome so much pain… He loves you so much. You're so lucky he's your father. And your grandmother; oh Severus, she was an angel: so kind and gentle and funny. She loves you so much; I can feel it. And your other grandmother – I'm certain she watches over us. She sacrificed everything for your father."

Snape's eyes narrowed in concern. Something in her tone made him nervous. Something different. A finality that was somehow unnerving.

"I hope you forgive me some day, and that you aren't embarrassed of me…" Her voice finally broke and she held him close, rocking him gently and trying not to cry, not quite able to stop.

With that Snape stepped forward, his eyes filled with concern and pity.

"Between the shock of the Dementor and the Catholicism, did you sleep at all?" he asked, smiling wistfully.

She kissed him and eased into his embrace. "Not really."

He pulled her close against himself and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"You'd both be so much better off if I were gone," she mused earnestly. "I'm such a wreck, and I don't have any real power, except some strange, oppositional type of power. I'm such an embarrassment."

His throat contracted. "You've been saying that since I met you. Nobody thinks so but you. We all feel badly for you. We want to help you, and we should be helping you - much more than we have been."

She shrugged. "You all have a school to run. Nobody asked for my presence here. You're all so talented and gifted, and I…"

"You what?" he neatly completed her sentence. "Let us examine that question. You converse with snakes; endure Dementors and an insufferable baby; light up a room when you walk in; detect obscure poisons in food; help a hateful, horrid man trust again; and, undoubtedly best of all, superbly put Harry Potter in his rightful place, with words I'll live on for the rest of my life."

She laughed softly and blushed. "You're sweet. Don't mind me. I'm just confused, as usual. I don't mean to fish for compliments."

He kissed her and took Severus into his arms. "Your mother is sad, and for good reason. We must help her, even if it means doing the unspeakable. The truly unspeakable."

The baby looked at him curiously and so did Amelia.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"It's too horrible to say aloud. And, after this heroic deed, if you ever, ever question my love for you – I'll abandon you to Lupin."

She laughed merrily and squeezed his hand. "Don't do anything dangerous."

He only shook his head grimly. "Pray for me."


	45. Book 2 Chapter 20

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 20

"You sent for me, sir?"

Snape tried his best not to cringe at the rather shrill, thin voice that was piercing his ears, late that afternoon.

"Yes, Miss Granger, thank you for coming."

"Well, I did have to leave a _Future CPAs of Hogsmead_ meeting, but Ron's taking notes."

"I appreciate your sacrifice," he replied tersely. "Miss Granger, I find myself in the odd position of having to ask a favor…"

Her eyes lit up in curiosity. "Oh?"

"And, I must ask that you hold what I say in the strictest confidence. Can you promise that?"

Her smile faded. "Does it involve, well, the _other side_?"

He scowled. "For God's sake, no."

"Sorry - no offense." She eased into the chair in front of his desk. "Of course I'll be discreet. You have my word."

He sighed. Why did everything take three times as long with her?

"My wife, as you know, is a special person."

Hermoine barely suppressed a smile. "Yes, sir. She'd have to be."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I mean – she's very special. Very, very special."

Snape adjusted his collar. "She is concerned…well, you know how her powers are rather erratic: how she botches potions one day and faces a Dementor the next…"

"Yes, she's fascinating," Hermoine added. "And if she needs an extra hand, I'd love to babysit. I could even tutor your son when the time came."

"That's very thoughtful, but the snakes take care of that."

"Snakes? He needs a witch."

"You never fail to interrupt me. It's a positive disease with you."

"Well, I just…"

"First, the snakes are inexpensive. Second, I have another task in mind for you."

She sighed and looked down at her hands.

"With your penchant for research and, albeit, _illegal _knowledge of the libraries here, I was wondering if you would – if you could – try to find any information that might cast some light on, basically, who my wife is."

"Who she is, sir?"

"Yes. What her power is; what her potential may be; what she is, actually."

Hermoine's face filled with all the eager animation of a vampire in a blood bank.

"Professor, do I understand you to imply that she's not an ordinary witch?"

"Oh, she's not ordinary in any sense of the word. I know that already. But I'm beginning to think that her unique power isn't a mistake – or a result of past trauma or neglect."

"You mean, she's an unusual variety of witch?" Hermoine asked, now fascinated.

"That's for you to find out, Miss Granger. When my wife saw through my invisibility cloak, I thought it was odd, but chalked it up to abuse, or a lack of guidance. When she couldn't see our ghosts, or the potions – I did the same. A few days ago, she encountered a Dementor. Not only is she alive, but she enjoyed every minute. I must suspect that there's more substance to her magic than I'd assumed."

Chewing on her pen, Hermoine was already deep in thought.

He clenched his hands together. "And she's moping. I can't stand her moping. You have to help me."

Hermoine paused and tapped the pen in her hand.

"Well, what do you think? I haven't got all day," he prodded.

She paused. He frowned even deeper.

"How much does it pay?" she asked.

"What?" he exclaimed.

"My wages, sir."

"Wages? Oh my God…"

"Well, my next tuition installment is due, and…"

"Have you no loyalty, Miss Granger? I am one of your oldest and dearest professors…"

Her forehead creased.

"…I've led you through the peaks and valleys of the potions universe. I've molded you and guided you and groomed you into the witch you are today."

Her face had turned to stone.

Then, she looked at him plainly.

"It's ten an hour, minimum, in gold. Plus expenses if I travel."

His eyes filled with distaste. "All right. Ten an hour, and don't pad your billing or off to Azkaban you'll go."

She smiled primly and nodded. "Nice doing business with you, sir. Don't worry. If anyone can get to the bottom of this, I can."


	46. Book 2 Chapter 21

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 20

Amelia tore open what must have been the seventh package in a stack of a dozen, pink- and red-wrapped gifts - after classes had ended on that snowy Valentine's evening.

Lifting out a third black skirt, she frowned in mild annoyance.

"I don't understand," she murmured. "All of these clothes…it seems strange. Is it a British custom to give clothing on Valentine's Day?"

Severus shot her a furtive glance from above his newspaper. "Yes."

Her eyes clouded. "Now I feel guilty."

"Now? You always feel guilty."

" I didn't sew you any clothing for Valentine's Day. I was planning on chocolate."

"Chocolate?" he said, in mild distaste. "I don't care for chocolate."

She only smiled to herself and looked down.

Wearily, she laid the skirt on the growing pile of black blouses and black skirts.

"I don't mean to be ungrateful, but I don't need clothes. I don't want them. They're just not…quite right."

His eyes were dark and grave. "You'll be wounding your poor suitors to the core. To the very core."

"Do you really think so?" Her guilt began to rise like barometric pressure in the Sahara.

"I know so," he said dramatically. "They're so young and innocent. Would you want their heartbreak on your conscience?"

"But I've never heard of schoolboys giving clothing to their professors' assistants."

"As you said, it's a British custom – spanning back to Charlemagne."

"Charlemagne was ruler of _France_."

"Yes, well, William the Conqueror brought it over here."

"Brought what here?"

"The tradition."

She sighed. "What an odd tradition. I suppose I'm flattered, but these things aren't really quite to my taste. I prefer the dress I'm wearing. It's just…perfect."

Taking a long, weary breath, he forced a smile. "Well…there's nothing wrong with occasionally, perhaps, wearing another dress…"

She gazed disapprovingly at the next black blouse she'd unwrapped. "I don't know. There's just something missing in these."

He raked a hand through his hair.

"At least they're _new_, my dear."

"I don't need anything new. My dress has character – and so many wonderful memories." Her blue eyes filled with the warm light of memory, as Severus began to look increasingly defeated.

"Yes, but…what about the poor?" he attempted. "Perhaps it's time to give that dress to the poor."

Her eyes clouded. "What poor?"

"You know…the poor."

"The poor _witches_?"

"Yes." He nodded eagerly; a little too eagerly.

She paused in a moment of reflection.

"How can anyone here be poor? Can't you cast spells to create money, or food, or housing?"

He groaned and tried to read the paper.

"Come to think of it, can't you all cast spells to end world hunger? Or cure catastrophic diseases? Or initiate world peace, or…"

Now, he was looking at her like she truly did belong in a mental institution.

"Really, Amelia, we do a good job at Quidditch."

"But…"

"No. None of this silly digression. Just humor the boys. They probably spent all of their allowances to buy them for you."

New remorse began to wash over her, like she was a human beaker and the guilt was being poured in. But then, she stopped cold.

"Since when have you had the slightest concern about how your students felt?" she probed.

"Amelia, I'm wounded to the core. I worry incessantly about their welfare."

"You ought to _worry_ about giving me something for Valentine's," she grumbled.

Severus merely shrugged carelessly. "You have enough admirers already. Oddly enough, they think you're pretty."

She leaned over and slipped her arms around his neck, nuzzling him affectionately. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

His lips twisted, and he opened his mouth to say something, but then shook his head, and she hung over him like a vulture, letting her hair spill across his shoulders.

"You do think I'm pretty. You do. I can tell." She kissed him softly and he swung her into his arms, as their lips fell together again and again.

"I suppose you look all right, on the few occasions when you're not crying or hysterical," he whispered.

Amelia blushed. "Your flattery is overwhelming."

"I warned you not to have anything to do with me."

"I should have listened. You didn't get me anything for the most romantic day of the year."

"You keep talking about romance as if we have one. Besides, it's a completely artificial holiday contrived by shopkeepers to make money during the dead of winter."

"Yes, a poor excuse to pick a man's pocket every 14th of February," she sulked.

"Oh, don't be so indignant. I've never given you anything. Why should I start now?"

"You've given me wonderful things." Her voice softened at the memories.

"I find things here and there, but I never go out of my way."

"I can never win with you, but I _know_ I'm your Valentine," she teased, kissing him recklessly. "I'll bet you're waiting until tonight."

"Yes, that's it."

"I'd like something only you can give me," she whispered, with a bashful laugh.

"I wonder what that would be…" he drawled. "No."

"Please...poor Severus is lonely."

"He has the snakes."

"He's seven months old; he wants a brother or a sister."

"Yes, he discusses it with me daily, right after we review the stock markets."

"He speaks to the snakes, and they tell me."

"I see. Well, when I can speak to the snakes, I'll confirm it."

She laughed hopelessly and kissed his cheek. "You just have trouble opening up. It's all right."

"It's an issue I need to work through." He looked darkly at her, with just a hint of a smile in his eyes, and she just dissolved into more laughter and hugged him.

"Let make love," she whispered eagerly. "I didn't buy you normal chocolate, Severus. It has some sort of love charm. I can melt it all over me, and…"

About an hour later, he looked over at her in their bed, and scowled.

"I can't believe you," he remarked, lighting a cigarette.

She only laughed and blushed, wrapping herself tightly around him.

"Really, Amelia, using chocolate to seduce me. You should die of shame. If this was an evil ploy to have another baby, I'll turn you over to the Dementors. Oh, but you'd like that. Well, God knows what I'd do."

"I'm sorry, but it seemed like an interesting idea." She laughed and kissed him.

"The worst of it is, I succumbed. I can't believe myself. You've totally ruined me." He shook his head and pulled her back into his arms.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, kissing his neck.

"I've never even liked chocolate," he sulked.

"You seemed to like it well enough."

"Well, when you pour it over yourself like that…"

They both dissolved into delighted laughter and their eyes accidentally connected. For a moment, the levity was gone; the barriers taken away - and he reached down and kissed her softly on the lips – again and again.

"I love you so much, Amelia," he whispered. "I just don't know how you can love me."

"It's so easy, Severus," she whispered, glowing like a candle. "It's the easiest thing in the world."

"But marrying me? Didn't that terrify you?"

"It was the easiest decision I've ever made."

His eyes clouded and she just kissed him softly, whispering how much she loved him and would never, ever leave him.

A small knock came at their chamber door and she reluctantly climbed out and opened it. Nobody was there. But down at the threshold sat a small, wrapped gift addressed to her.

At first she was elated. He had remembered. He really had. But something about the way it looked wasn't right.

Frowning, she took the package into her hands and paused. How ugly it was. Common brown postal paper tied with dirty string? On Valentine's Day? It even smelled wrong.

She hesitated. Even Severus wouldn't go so far as to wrap something like this. He usually used lovely black paper, anyway.

"What awful paper," Snape remarked disapprovingly and she nodded in agreement.

She untied the ties and beneath the outer paper lay a package wrapped with colorful paper. Her hand froze and she dropped it on the floor, as if it had suddenly caught fire.

"I don't want it," she said firmly.

He leaned forward. "Oh, Amelia, it's probably just another skirt."

"No. No, it's not. Don't you see the color?" she whispered.

He sighed. "I know. That nauseating pink is so ridiculous."

"It's yellow," she whispered, her face rapidly losing color. "It's yellow, like the laboratory."

His forehead creased and he took it in his hands. He stared at it, lit a match, stared at it more deeply.

"Take my hand," she said.

He complied, and she concentrated as hard as she could.

"I see a bit of a glow," he remarked darkly.

His smile died instantly.

"Let's go to Albus."

--

_Author's Note: I finally got the chapter in fixed and they are numbered properly, sorry about the confusion. I'd also like to say thanks for all the reviews, they really make my day!_


	47. Book 2 Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

"Go ahead, Amelia," Albus said, pointing his wand toward the package, in readiness. "Open it."

In Albus' office, gathered around the package which was set on his desk, Severus was pointing his own wand, and Minerva was also.

Hesitantly, she went ahead. Slowly, she unpeeled the tape and turned back the paper.

A rather large, pink tin lay beneath. Almost as if she were standing at one end of a tunnel and they were at the other, she heard Minerva, Albus and Snape break into laughter. She did not join them.

Staring at the tin, she thought she might pass out. She felt like her blood had suddenly drained into her feet. Heaviness. Throbbing. The familiar nausea.

But they were laughing and talking – as if they were miles away. Everyone was always miles away. She was always alone. Not laughing when she should. Laughing when she shouldn't. Always, always different – as she was here…

"My dear, it's only a tin of sweets," Severus said gently, his voice somehow breaking through the din.

"No," she whispered, leaning into him and burying her face in his cloak. "No, it's not."

Minerva touched her arm. "Amelia, my dear, what is it?"

Hopelessly, she shook her head, which was beginning to ache in pain. "You all must not have this type of candy in England. Oh, thank God the baby didn't get hold of these by mistake…"

Severus simply waited, his smile fading.

"They're caramels," Amelia said softly. "They've been around for years in America. They're called Turtles.'"

--

It seemed like nobody wanted to be the first to speak. The clock ticked in the background. Echoes of schoolchildren could be heard in the hallway, beyond the closed door.

"Well…perhaps it's all an unfortunate coincidence," Minerva said weakly – the words dying on her lips almost before they emerged.

"It's possible," Albus said, with absolutely no conviction.

Amelia stared bleakly at the tin. Snape sighed tiredly.

Glancing from one to the next, Amelia saw how tired they were. Tiny lines drew themselves around their eyes. Tiny lines she'd helped cause.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I'm so sorry for all of this. You all have been more than patient with the trouble I've brought upon this school. I think I should leave."

"No, dear, that's not the answer," Minerva said softly, her voice full of regret. "And where would you go?"

"There's no place, really, but the desert."

"Nobody is leaving," Albus said firmly. "You just fled from the desert. Whoever, or whatever is after you – or you and Severus – isn't daunted by geography."

"This is awful. I feel like such a liability," Amelia went on, now entering her morose phase of guilt.

Albus moved a bit closer to Amelia and smiled gently into her eyes.

"Amelia," he said softly, "you have taken a troubled man – a man who has had a life of pain and disappointment and persecution – and given him happiness, love and acceptance."

Snape's eyes rolled back in distaste.

"And," Albus bent closer, so only she could hear, "for whatever reason, our numbers of potions majors have doubled since you've come. We actually have a wait list. Do you realize what kind of tuition revenue that means?"

Her mouth fell open. "But why?"

"Who cares? You're pretty; you're cheerful; you improve Severus' mood a bit...don't even think of leaving."

Her eyes widened in surprise, followed by a bit of confusion, and then she frowned.

"Whatever it is, it may be defeated by magic," Albus said to the group. "The both of you need to get serious about your powers. I know you've been busy with the baby, but it's time to let Severus help you refine your magic, Amelia. And Severus, perhaps the marriage bond will allow Amelia's power to help you recover."

Snape nodded thoughtfully – and Amelia smiled in a shred of hope.

Albus took a long puff on his pipe. "We know Draco is still a tortoise. Perhaps Narcissa is being truthful and he was just playing a prank to try and implicate Amelia. If he was, there may be deeper roots to this problem."

Snape nodded in agreement. "Malfoy hasn't the brains to come up with anything clever. Someone else has to be behind it. I just can't understand what possible interest they'd have in Amelia…"

Amelia bristled a bit, but then decided to let it go.

Minerva glanced anxiously at Amelia, seemed to shiver, and then quickly turned her gaze toward the window. Snape's sharp eyes caught her apprehension, and he studied her sharply.

Albus nodded. "Therein lies your answer. Find out who or what Amelia is and you'll find out who doesn't like it. You tell me that Miss Granger is researching Amelia's background. That is an excellent start. It may be our only hope."

Snape groaned. "If it doesn't kill us. Good God, what if that's it? Headmaster, what if the person behind all of this is using Miss Granger as the coup de gras – to slowly drive us to suicide through her infinite, unbearable interrogation and…"

Amelia giggled and slipped her hand into his.

Albus took a weary puff. "No, Severus. I don't think so."


	48. Book 2 Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

Silent and thoughtful, Amelia crunched into the window seat of the faculty lounge late that night, and hugged her head to her knees. It was a nice little nook. A retreat she often used to think, or to relax, or try to make sense of her life.

The door opened and Severus walked inside, walking up beside her and folding his arms.

"Hello," she said warmly and he reached down and kissed her softly, easing in beside her.

"You're still worried about those sweets, aren't you?" he asked.

"Oh, it's not really the sweets. I'm just worried about the future."

"What future? You married me, my dear. You have no future."

Laughing softly, she nodded and pressed his hand. " I want so much to be able to refine my magic, like Albus says I should, but I have no idea how. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to do it. I'd have to go through seven years here...and I'm too old. And then we'd have another tuition to pay for, unless I could get a discount or a scholarship..."

"You're getting tied up in knots over nothing," he said impatiently. "The only department worth a damn here is the potions department, and you're married to the chairman. I can teach you everything you really need to know."

"Really, Severus?"

"Be sensible, Amelia. Do you have the slightest interest in flying brooms, or turning yourself into a cat, or doing whatever the hell they do with the plants."

"Well, no, not really."

" – and nobody ever knows what Professor Trelawney's talking about."

She burst into delighted laughter and kissed him again and again. "You're so mean. I don't know why I love you so much."

"Because you know I'm right. Stick with me. You'll be fine."

She laughed and blushed deeply. "I think I will stick with you. I got very, very lucky by marrying the best professor in the entire school - I mean, in the entire history of wizardry."

"And I save money by not having to send you through."

She nodded and blushed. "Of course."

"I'm sorry, Amelia. Your father did you a terrible disservice. All I can say is, I'm sorry."

"Is it nice, being able to cast spells?" she asked quietly. "...being able to do something real with your power; something controlled, with a goal?"

Severus nodded, but it wasn't an arrogant nod or a condescending nod. Just a nod.

"Is it nice to be able to have a baby?" he asked quietly.

She glanced up into his eyes, which were deep and kind understanding, and smiled radiantly.

"I mean...it's terribly minor, but you can do at least one thing with a bit of competence."

Tears filled her eyes and she slipped her arms around him.

"Look," he offered, easing very close to her and taking her right hand in his, "when you hold the wand in your hand relax your wrist, and let your energy flow – through your hand and into the wand itself. Concentrate on that energy…"

Taking the wand from him, she complied, clasping it firmly and trying to focus on the feel of the wand, the weight, and how her fingers held onto it.

"Now, just think about that vase over there in the corner. Think that you want to lift it off of the table. More than anything in the world, you want that vase in the air. Let the thought pass from your mind, through your arm, into the wand. And picture that vase levitating."

Closing her eyes, she did her best to focus.

"Don't close your eyes. Look at it. And say the word _leviosa_."

As she complied, the vase slowly began to move. The next instant, it had risen an inch or two off of the table. She smiled joyfully but then her forehead creased in concern.

"Stop that at once, you evil girl," a familiar voice echoed. Severus? How could he say such a thing? No. No, it couldn't

be. His eyes were on the vase…

The vase, a few inches off of the table, spun around in a circle, exploded in the air, and showered to the floor. Amelia let go of the wand with a sharp cry – as if it burned her hand. The wand went flying out of her hand into the hearth, fortunately landing beside the burning logs – allowing Severus time to retrieve it.

"Amelia…" he stared at her in shock.

Her mouth opened in protest. "I didn't do it, Severus. I swear. How could you tell me I was evil when I was doing so well? I thought you were proud of me."

"Evil? I never said you were evil. At least, not tonight."

A sinking feeling crept through her, as she realized he hadn't heard the voice.

"Amelia," he asked quietly. "You heard a voice?"

Running a hand through her hair, she reluctantly nodded. "Yes."

She realized it wasn't his voice at all. She knew whose it was, all to well. It had been awhile since she'd heard it, but there was no mistaking the accusatory, sharp inflection.

Lord, her wrist even throbbed in pain, as if her father's hand had once again broken it, in trying to rip the wand out of her grip.

Rubbing her wrist, she struggled not to cry. She didn't know what was worse – the sound of her father's angry voice; or the disturbed expression on her husband's face when everything went wrong once again.

Perhaps she was schizophrenic, or psychotic and simply hearing voices like some of her fellow patients in the hospital. Maybe she was ruining everyone's happiness by being here. Maybe…

Another hand was on her wrist, lifting it into the light. She gave a start, but then realized the touch was gentle and loving, totally unlike what she'd felt earlier.

"Amelia, look…" He held her wrist in the firelight, and she noticed bright red impressions that would soon turn to bruises.

In a way, it was a profound relief. Tears fell from her eyes, tears of relief. Tears of joy that there was proof she wasn't totally insane.

His eyes filled with compassion, and he kissed her hand, holding it against his chest.

"My dear, you have to work on not believing him. He was so wrong. He was the one who was unstable, my dear. I'm so sorry."

She kissed him and slipped her arms around him. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to lift that vase."

"Who cares?" He smiled and she felt his lips on hers. "You're so magical, my dear. Do you think I care if you can't levitate a silly vase."

"It's a Ming vase, and Albus is going to kill me," she said sadly.

She wept for a few moments, and they sank down on the couch and just held one another. A mixture of joy, relief, sadness and love filtered through her. The even sound of his breathing was relaxing and wonderful to listen to.

"Look at me," he said with a bit of irony in his voice. "I can't even restore it, thanks to Malfoy. You're not the only one with magical troubles."

She nodded tiredly, and managed a small laugh. But it wasn't funny. Randomly, she wondered if pythons liked tortoise for dinner. Right about now, she could make some heavenly tortoise soup for Nancy…

"What about the marriage bond, Severus?" she asked suddenly, the second the thought dawned on her.

"What about it?" he said glumly.

"Well, maybe if we...joined hands or kissed or something...we could fix it _together_."

His lips were tight and he took her hands in his and kissed them. He took a deep breath.

"My dear, there is no marriage bond."

"Yes there is. It's a spiritual bond that cannot be broken. It's so incredibly romantic..."

"It was propaganda Albus threw in in desperation. He was afraid I was drugged, or intoxicated, or temporarily insane when I agreed to marry you."

"Oh Severus, really." She crossed her arms and sighed hopelessly.

"He knew I'd abandon you the moment I tired of you; so, in desperation, he tried to invent a protection for you..."

Her eyes were glazing over and her lips, twisting into a mild frown.

"What am I thinking?" she asked archly.

He paused and then forced his eyes away. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

She just continued smiling and blushing. His face darkened.

"I'm not getting anything. No, not a thing. We have no link whatever. No bond. No real reason for being together, except sex."

She just waited.

"No. I'm not feeling anything, Amelia. I'm terribly sorry."

Her eyes lit up and she reached up and kissed him.

He began to smile, but refused to say anything more. He just smiled, and laughed softly, and then shook his head hopelessly.

Suddenly, as if the thought possessed them both at the same time, they joined hands and clasped the wand together, very tightly.

"Now, on three, we'll say the word _restoratum,_" he began.

"I don't think that's the correct conjugation."

"Don't quibble about the Latin. Just say it."

He counted. They said it. The pieces shot into the air, spun in a mini tornado, and exploded. When the smoke cleared, the vase sat contentedly on the table.

She looked at him in pure adoration. "We're amazing."

He smiled just a bit. "Haven't been able to do that one in awhile."

"We should celebrate," she said, blushing. "The marriage bond is real. It's true. We're one person, forever and ever. It's so romantic it gives me chills."

"It's propaganda – and I don't believe for one minute you're having another baby." He lifted her up and spun her around in the air, as they both melted into laughter.


	49. Book 2 Chapter 24

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 24

Struggling to keep her eyes open, Amelia rested her head against Severus' arm, trying to concentrate, as Hermoine entered her second hour of inquisition.

The air was thick and heavy, and several cups of lukewarm tea were strewn about the table. Severus Jr., having long given up on staying awake, dozed peacefully in his father's arms.

"Siblings?" Hermoine continued.

"None."

"Pets?"

"A cat. I once had a little corn snake…"

Snape eyed her curiously, and she shrugged.

"Major field of study?"

"Nursing, with a double major in chemistry."

"Nationality?"

"For God's sake, Miss Granger, get to the point," Snape demanded, glancing at his watch.

"You can understand Parseltongue, Mrs. Snape?"

"Unfortunately." She glanced glumly at the pythons, who turned their heads the other way.

"You occasionally do magic without actually trying?"

"Yes, unfortunately."

"When she gets upset, things often start breaking or falling," Severus said pointedly. "Especially when interviews last too long and it is obvious the interviewer is trying to pad her hours for undeserved payment."

"You claim to have positive feelings for Professor Snape?" Hermoine sounded a bit incredulous.

He sat back with a sigh. Amelia's face glowed. "I love him. I love him more every day."

"Extraordinary." She scribbled furiously and Snape's eyes narrowed.

"And you hate yellow?"

"Very much. Black is my favorite."

"Why do you hate yellow?"

"I don't really know. It just sickens me, especially lately."

"And you only wear one dress?"

Amelia's eyes cooled. "Why is this issue coming up with everyone?"

"Yes, well, moving along…you can't see the ghosts and much of the magical décor."

"No." She yawned.

"And you tasted the poison Malfoy used."

"Yes."

Hermoine leaned back in deep thought. "You're fascinating, Mrs. Snape. I have a lot of research to do."

"Oh, not so much," Snape said nervously, glancing at his billfold.

"Oh yes, sir. I think it will take me quite awhile…"

"Then let's get on with it," he snapped.

Amelia looked up hopefully. "Do you think you'll find anything useful, Hermoine?"

"I can if anyone can. You see, no one around here has the appreciation of history I have. They're too trapped in everyday crises. But I know the value of the past."

Amelia's face lightened in relief while Snape's eyes darkened in a mixture of impatience and disgust.

"I'll wager there's good reason for all of your interesting talents."

"Really?" Amelia's spirits lifted just a bit. Nobody had ever referred to them as talents' before.

"Yes, ma'am. Except, of course, the attraction to…well, never mind. May not be able to resolve that one."

Amelia's forehead creased. Snape began to whisper Latin words under his breath, but Amelia pressed his arm and shook her head. He reluctantly ceased.

"Just a few more questions, Mrs. Snape. I really think we're getting somewhere."

Amelia nodded tiredly, and held onto Severus' hand.

"Tell me about your childhood."

"What's to tell? I grew up in Kansas."

"Were you mistreated?" Hermoine asked clinically.

Amelia looked down reluctantly. "I don't know."

"Yes you do know, my dear," Snape said softly.

"By whom?" Hermoine asked.

"My father. He mistreated everyone."

"Physically?"

"Not usually, but he broke my wrist because he saw me practicing a little levitation spell. He gave my mother a black eye during the outburst."

Hermoine nodded thoughtfully and scribbled more notes into her growing notebook.

"He preferred to beat us with words," Amelia said tiredly.

"And the words he used? What were they?"

"_Abomination. Perversion. Chaos_. Is that a good enough sample?" Tears stung her eyes and Snape passed her a handkerchief.

Quietly, Hermoine made more notes. Severus held her hand a bit tighter.

"Did your parents argue?" she asked.

"Only over magic. My father forbade her to use it or discuss it."

"I see. What's the first magical act you remember doing?"

Amelia paused. Hermoine waited. Snape gritted his teeth.

"I think I caused a mild tornado once."

"What?" Hermoine said in surprise.

"You never told me that," Severus exclaimed.

"I forgot."

"You forgot that you caused a tornado?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry, Severus. I've been busy with the baby."

"But…"

"My mother told me not to dwell on it. Anyway, it didn't kill anyone, thank heavens. It happened at night."

"What, exactly, happened?" Hermoine asked.

"A tornado happened. It was the night my father struck my mother. I was really upset, and a tornado came along. Lots of wind. It was loud, but it was short. We didn't seem him after that."

Hermoine took a large gulp of tea. Snape's eyes were riveted to Amelia, who smiled tiredly.

Snape looked over at Hermoine and gave her a barely discernable shake of the head. Hermoine made a little note in the margin and continued smoothly.

"The recent Dementor incident: you say you can tolerate them?"

She nodded dismally.

"You actually enjoyed being in one's presence?"

"Yes."

Hermoine scribbled furiously. Glancing guiltily at Severus, Amelia leaned forward closer to Hermoine.

"But not better than…"

"Ladies, how about more tea," Snape interrupted hastily.

Hermoine shrugged. "Yes, thank you, professor."

Hermoine looked up curiously, as if she'd forgotten to say something that she now remembered.

"Mrs. Snape, I'm sorry I don't know this, but to what house do you belong?"

Amelia paused and Severus' eyes clouded.

"Mrs. Snape, have you ever been evaluated by the Sorting Hat?"

"No," she answered.

"We should do that," Hermoine said, making a few more notes and then snapping her notebook shut. Amelia took the baby into her own arms, and nodded, but rather reluctantly.

"So, where do we go from here?" Amelia asked.

"I have a few people to call upon – and perhaps you can help me in the library later," she answered. "I may need a blood sample, the results from the hat. I'd also like any and all medical records on the mother and on Mrs. Snape."

"Is that all?" Snape drawled. "Couldn't we fetch you the Rosetta Stone, or the tableaus of the Ten Commandments?"

Hermoine just sighed.

"Miss Granger, how the devil do _you _intend to get those documents?" Snape prodded.

Hermoine looked down, a bit nervously. "I'm a bit frightened, to be honest. I was going to ask you to help me, sir."

"No. That's what I'm paying you for."

"Ten an hour? I won't go through a port key for less than fifty."

"You thief. I won't help you get the reports unless you cut your wages in half."

"That's pure exploitation," Hermoine sulked.

"Exploitation? With the highway robbery you're committing…don't make me laugh," Snape retorted.

"I won't steal hospital documents and risk getting sent to Azkaban for less than 80 in gold…"

"Don't worry about Azkaban, Hermoine. Most likely, you'd go to Leavenworth," Amelia said brightly.

Both Hermoine and Snape turned toward her in curiosity.

Amelia smiled neatly. "It's one of our finest. It could give Azkaban a run for its money any day. I did my nursing internship there."

Snape's mouth fell open. Hermoine smiled in deep admiration. For a few moments, the room was quiet. Finally Severus took a deep breath and looked briefly at his son.

"I'm not letting you rob me, Miss Granger. I'll go myself. Perhaps I'll take Potter along. He's the blessed godfather. And he can't charge me a penny."


	50. Book 2 Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

"You know," Severus mused, slipping his arm around her as they stared into the glass case, "we've never seen what you are, my dear. You're a Slytherin by default, but Miss Granger was right, as much as I hate to say so. The Sorting Hat never decided."

She shrugged. "Who cares? The hat would probably catch fire, or something else equally embarrassing."

His face gained enthusiasm – and then great animation. That expression was so rare for him, she was almost terrified.

"We should do it, Amelia. Let's take out the hat and see."

Her eyes clouded. "No, thank you. I'd rather not. I don't feel like being judged by a hat."

"Yes. Let's see. We're trying to figure out who you are, anyway. This could help."

"No. I'm tired. Let's go to bed."

"Please, Amelia. Miss Granger will insist on it, and if we do it without her, it will save me…I mean, I'd like to share the moment with you."

She frowned. "The _moment_?"

"The moment when the hat decides. It's a very important moment."

"Not for me. I don't care what that hat says."

"Amelia, it's, actually, well, practically…a sacrament."

"It's not anywhere close to being a sacrament, Severus. You always attack my conscience when you want something."

"I'm wounded," he said in deep, dramatic resonance. "It's a magical sacrament. It really is. A rite of initiation. You wouldn't want to desecrate a sacrament, would you?"

Her eyes darkened. "…trying to use my guilt to manipulate me…you're truly wicked."

He'd already turned the key in the case. Judging by the longing in his eyes, she knew he wouldn't be swayed, and if it were that important to him, she'd go through with it.

"I'm doing this under duress," she grumbled, looking suspiciously at the dusty, crumpled, ancient hat that sat in a tall, glass curio cabinet near the faculty table. "And only because I love you. Letting yourselves be judged and sentenced by a silly hat…you all should be ashamed."

"It will be fascinating to find out," he said eagerly. "Especially since you're so destructive…I mean, different."

"I feel sick. What if it says I really am evil – or that I'm some kind of abomination?" "Then it won't be telling us anything we don't already know."

"Here we are," he said, removing the hat carefully. Gently and carefully, he placed it atop her head and waited. A minute passed. Then another. "See," she shrugged. "Nothing. I'm nothing."

She reached up to take it off, but couldn't get it to budge. It was fixed on her head – as if it were held there by some kind of magnetism.

"Ah, this is interesting…" an old, crackly voice said. She froze and then crossed her arms in growing anxiety.

"Whom do we have here? Someone very different, aren't we? Don't come across your kind everyday. Not for a long while. My predecessor spoke of your kind. Powerful, when you least expect it – but different; a little off. Be careful, miss. Even wizards don't like _differences._"

She sighed loudly. "Just tell me which house I'm in and get to the point."

"Impatient, like your husband. I'll tell you when I'm good and ready."

"Well, excuse me," she snapped, missing how the corners of Snape's mouth turned up, just a fraction of an inch.

"Interesting," pondered the hat. "Hufflepuff might fit. You're loyal enough, and rather clumsy; and Ravenclaw…no, not really. Gryffindor, possibly; you have integrity. As for Slytherin…there's an interesting one. You're drawn to dark things, and darkness resides within you. You love someone very dark…and you're very determined, though somewhat of a nag."

Her mouth dropped open in protest.

"Slytherin it is."

"No," she whispered. "No. You're wrong."

Snape's eyes lit up and he gathered her up in his arms and twirled her around in delight.

She gazed at him, now in true horror, and confusion clouded his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"I knew it. I really am evil," she cried. "I'm evil, just like they all said."

Bursting into tears, she threw the hat as far as she could, pushed herself away and tore out of the room, slamming the door.


	51. Book 2 Chapter 26

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 26

As she lay sobbing on their bed, gradually calming down, she began to hope he'd come back, and then to wonder when he would come back, and then realize that he might not be coming back.

As the minutes ticked into hours, she finally couldn't stand it another second. Hastily, she piled a couple of the larger pythons in Severus' crib, and crept out of the chamber.

It was bad luck to let a night pass over an argument, as he'd once said, and she wouldn't have it.

Where would he be, she wondered. Somewhere, a clock tolled, and she realized it was two in the morning. Where could he be? She checked the lab, with no luck. Then, it finally occurred to her. The tower. He loved it there. He'd given her the opal there.

Climbing the two million steps, sweating and huffing as she neared the top – she finally popped out in the cold darkness, which was a welcome change after all of the climbing. To her relief, he was sitting on the edge, looking across the fields, smoking.

"Severus," she called, "I've been worried about you."

Unsmiling, he glanced back, and she hurried toward him and arranged herself next to him. It didn't take much to realize he was not glad to see her.

"Severus, please, you're upset with me. I can feel it."

"It's nothing. Go to bed."

"No. Not until we resolve this." Her voice was firm.

He still said nothing.

"Please, what's the matter? Yell at me, insult me, but don't stay quiet like this."

"That's the worst of it," he said evenly. "You don't know what you said. Nobody does."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand."

"You think everything is fine and as it should be."

"Please, don't talk in riddles. I'm very tired, and I just want to make things right between us before the sun comes up."

He looked down and took a long draw on the cigarette. She took his hand in hers. Frantically, she grasped at anything she thought could have hurt him.

"For the last time, the Dementor was not, in any conceivable way, better than…"

"No, no," he snapped. "Good God, Amelia, you called my house evil. You called me evil – doomed forever. You're just like everyone else."

Tears sprang into her eyes and her mouth dropped open.

"How can you say that? I am not like everyone else. I love you. I mean…"

"You went into hysterics when the hat deemed you a Slytherin."

Numb with surprise, she could only stare at him in more pain. Though her first instinct was to defend herself, she somehow paused. Unfortunately, his words were slowly starting to make sense, and her mind went blank, and then raced. She truly didn't know what to say.

"I am so damned tired of everyone saying Slytherin is nothing but evil personified. Do you think Albus would have us here if that were true?"

She shivered and pulled her cloak closer. "I'm sorry. I just thought it was common knowledge."

"Common knowledge? Yes, I suppose it is. But do you agree? Do you subscribe to common' knowledge?"

Well, yes, she thought guiltily, but didn't say as much. With more tears streaming down her cheeks, she didn't bother to protest – and just decided to listen.

"No doubt, Slytherin has endured more than its share of controversy – but many of our characteristics are admirable. We're resourceful, and determined…and we see things for what they are. Not what we wish they were; or what they might have been; or what some rule book says they ought to be."

She covered her eyes with a trembling hand.

"My God, how could you have married me - and had my child, if you thought I was evil?"

She was fumbling for words as if she'd forgotten the entire English language, and they seemed to fall from her mind the moment she found them.

"I don't think you're evil. I don't," she managed.

Well, she sort of did, but not really. But kind of. God, her head was splitting as she realized the implications of what she'd done.

"I…only thought that Slytherin was the place where all the bad people went," she attempted, blowing it again. Maybe this was her cue to jump off the ledge.

He put his hands on her shoulders and riveted his eyes on hers.

"Why is it bad' to study the outer reaches of magic? Why is it evil to investigate powerful spells that could work in our favor – to thwart our enemies and keep us all alive?"

"I don't know these answers, Severus. I…"

"Death and suffering are unfortunate facts of life, Amelia. Sometimes, you have to use them to allow those you love to live on. Inevitably, we'll have to use them against You-Know-Who and his Deatheaters. And possibly with Malfoy."

"But Draco, and all of those awful boys…they're in Slytherin. I don't want to be like them."

"Of course you don't, and you won't. But Amelia, believe it or not – our son's Gryffindor godfather could have become a Slytherin. Six years ago, the hat said he could join either house."

She paused in confusion. He nodded firmly.

"We don't look at things through blinders, like the fools in the other houses. We know how cruel life can be. We respect that cruelty and horror."

Tears glittered in her eyes and she nodded brokenly.

"We study it – use it – and make it work in our favor. I'm proud we're the ones who push the bounds of magic – and expand its horizons. True, some of us go too far, as I did. But please, don't judge us all."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I suppose I had formed the typical view of Slytherin; maybe subconsciously, but I had, just the same."

He sighed, and seemed to relax just a bit.

"Well, you're not the first. In all fairness, we're not the most affable people."

She shook her head. "No, no. I was as biased as James or Sirius or any of those others."

"It's not difficult to form that opinion."

Her eyes had deepened into dark pools of remorse and she took his hand and placed it against her cheek.

"Please forgive me. You have my deepest apologies. I swear, Severus, you are my husband and I have the highest regard for you. You're the most wonderful person I've ever met – and every moment with you has been a privilege."

"Well, that's going a bit far, but if you truly feel that way, how can you have held such a dim view of my house?"

A good question and one she'd never even considered. Lord, what should she say? What would make him forgive her? If she misspoke, he'd probably throw himself off the ledge. Well, he hated lies, and she was too tired, anyway, so the truth would have to do.

"To be honest, I've never thought much about the houses – or even about Hogwarts, itself."

He eyed her in confusion.

"I'm serious. I've never thought of you as a Slytherin or Gryffindor…I think of you as you. I don't define you – at all."

"You talk like a therapist," he remarked dryly.

"I certainly hope I learned a little in therapy. Why do you all want to label yourselves by the arbitrary definitions of four dead wizards?"

His eyes rolled. "Ah yes, our classic argument. I suppose we'll be having this one on our deathbed."

But she must have said something right because his face had softened markedly – and his eyes had warmed.

"My dear, many gifted wizards have come out of Slytherin. They've discovered counter-spells for horrible illnesses - and contrived other powerful curses to battle our enemies. Some of our ways are considered dark,' but the darkest of darkness can be used for good; and the brightest of lights can go dark if used unwisely."

Nodding, she wiped her tears on her sleeve. He smiled just a bit.

"Look at Miss Granger. Of course, she has a good heart, but she'd drive St. Francis of Assisi to murder-suicide with her insufferable displays of book-learning. And she's greedy; a fact I just recently discovered."

Amelia laughed weakly. Exhausted relief was beginning to replace her guilt and trepidation.

He shrugged and finished his cigarette. "And, in fairness, you had an interesting point about the hat's judging. I'll have to think about that. I admit, when I put it on ages ago, it wasn't particularly pleasant."

Smiling, she eased closer to him.

"I know you hate it when I say these things, but you're so much more than anything that stupid hat could say. You're more than your house.' You're more than a wizard. You're more than…"

"All is forgiven. Please, just spare me the homily."

---

Perhaps an hour later, when they were laying together in the soothing darkness of their chamber, she looked up at the ceiling and then over to him.

"May I ask just one, last question?" she whispered, a bit nervously.

"No. I'm begging you," he groaned.

"Just one?" she whispered.

"Do I have a choice?"

"You are…still…_bad_, aren't you?"

He clapped a hand over his eyes.

She took a breath, hoping it wouldn't be her last.

"I only mean, well, that's sort of why I fell in love with you in the first place."

"Because I was evil?"

"Well, in a way."

"_In a way_? What the hell are you saying?"

"All the black; the grumpiness; the scariness."

"What are you talking about? I'm not scary."

"It's wonderful. You had me the first day." She rolled over and kissed him a dozen times.

"My God, I'm not hearing this. After that sermon I delivered, opening my heart to you; defending my heritage - and we're right back to where we started. Why am I surprised?"

"Well, Severus, sometimes bad is good." She kissed him recklessly.

"You know, this is all starting to make sense. Perhaps you are a Dementor. Yes, I believe you are. You've already succeeded in driving me out of my mind. What more do you want?"

Her eyes filled with warmth and longing, and before he could flee, she wrapped her arms around him.


	52. Book 2 Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

Amelia leaned over Severus from one side, and Severus Jr. began to crawl onto his chest from the other – as they enjoyed what must have been the first, warm pre-spring afternoon outside in the gardens beyond the castle.

"We love daddy, don't we," Amelia said, glowing and the baby giggled a bit and began to crawl on top of him. Amelia leaned lower and kissed him softly, laughing and letting the warm sunshine wash through her entire body.

"Get off - the both of you," he groaned. "I'm trying to rest. I didn't invite you here."

She just laughed and the baby smiled and drooled. Snape winced distastefully and wiped his collar.

"He's cutting his first tooth," Amelia said softly. "I can't believe it. I think I'm going to cry."

"Please, Amelia, sometimes a tooth is just a tooth."

"It's a milestone, Severus."

"No, it's not."

"It's his first tooth. Then his first step. Then his first day in school. Then his first sweetheart…" Tears began to well in her eyes and drop onto his shirt.

He groaned and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she conceded, laughing at her sentimentality and kissing him again. "The day's just getting to me. It's so sunny and warm. Oh Severus, the baby's hair is just your color. The sun really brings it out. It's just amazing."

"Unheard of, really," Snape said flatly, yawning and closing his eyes. "A baby having the same hair color as his father. We should call the Vatican. Perhaps it's some sort of miracle."

Amelia's face bloomed into joyful radiance. "Oh my God…you just admitted it. You just admitted you're his father."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"I'll deny it in court."

Amelia blushed, laughed and swung the baby into her arms, rocking him adoringly, humming and singing to him in her best voice, which never could carry a tune, but seemed to please Severus Jr. just fine. Even Snape smiled for an instant.

What a perfect day. The birds were chirping, the brook was trickling around the rocks, and just a tiny breeze blew. Heaven. It was so wonderful to be outside. To be alive.

And then there was the sound. It wasn't exactly a bird. Too piercing for a bird. Well, perhaps one of those pesky mockingbirds – or a bee or possibly a wasp?

"…I've been looking _everywhere_ for you."

The thin, shrill tone sliced through the early spring air like some kind of panicked hyena shrieking over a lost meal – or a dentist's drill. Yes, that was it: a drill, when it's fired up and ready to descend upon a molar…

Severus sprang up like a board, snatching the baby into his arms. Severus Jr.'s lower lip began to protrude in verge-of-tears agitation.

Wincing, Amelia looked up and then forced herself to smile politely, hardly making out the shape of Hermoine in the bright sun behind her.

"Hello, Snape family…"

Without invitation, Hermoine blithely plopped down on their black picnic blanket and sighed.

"What do you want? Can't you see we're trying to enjoy a bit of peace?" Snape complained.

"Mrs. Snape, I heard you used the Sorting Hat a few days ago," she began deliberately, with just the right edge of accusation in her voice.

Severus frowned. "It's Saturday, Miss Granger, though I doubt that means much to you. I don't pay time-and-a-half for weekend labor."

"I realize that, sir. I just wanted to say hello to the baby,"

"_Of course_," Snape drawled.

Hermoine let the baby wrap his fingers around hers. Though he wasn't crying, his lower lip was still protruding in a bit of instinctive anxiety.

"My, he's so cute, and what a head of hair. He's the spitting image of you, sir."

Snape drank the last of his coffee. "More like Lupin, actually. Oh my…I think I hear Mr. Weasley calling you."

"Ron's home for the weekend, sir."

"Then perhaps it's Potter. Just go. You're scaring the baby."

Hermoine's eyes rolled and she turned toward Amelia.

"I heard you were deemed a Slytherin, Mrs. Snape," she ventured. "…you know...when you two used the Sorting Hat, _without me_, a few nights ago."

"I didn't know you were the keeper of the hat," Snape snapped.

Amelia offered an apologetic smile. "It's true, Hermoine, I just couldn't wait another second after you suggested we try it. It was such a wise idea and I was so excited to find out my official house, I just couldn't stand it. Severus wanted to wait for you, of course, but I just lost my head. I'm sorry."

Severus' eyes darkened in a mixture of disgust and more disgust. His lips began to part, but Amelia plopped the baby into his lap and it seemed to distract him at just the right instant.

Hermoine shrugged and her irritation seemed to diminish just a degree.

"Well, perhaps we should recheck it, just to make sure. I have an hour or two..."

"No. That hat won't do it a second time," Snape cut her off.

"I don't think there are any time constraints, sir..."

"Yes, there are. If you use it again, it can be dangerous; even lethal."

"Sir, I've never heard that."

"But _I_ have. You don't know _everything_, Miss Granger. Almost, but not quite."

"I know enough to..."

Amelia pressed her hand. "Hermoine, it was such a special moment for me. It was such a sacred, almost sacramental ceremony, I really can't tarnish its memory by doing it again."

Snape actually had to smile and Amelia went on.

"I assure you, Hermoine, the hat was very, very sure of

itself."

Amelia smiled her most earnest, beautiful smile and Hermoine bristled, but then looked down at her hands and seemed to accept it.

"How do you feel about it, Mrs. Snape?"

"How does she feel about what?" Severus said, biting off each word because he knew exactly what "it" was.

"Being sorted into…Slytherin?"

Amelia paused, glanced at Severus, the baby, and then back at Hermoine.

"I can't describe it in words," she replied quietly.

Scowling, Snape eyed her darkly and she began to pray for the gift of diplomacy – or of apparation.

"…I'm already sewing Slytherin emblems on my entire wardrobe." She proudly held up her cape.

"_Wardrobe_?" Hermoine asked curiously, but then realized her fumble and raced on. "How nice."

"And our pillow shams. I'm doing very ornate S's all around the edges."

"That's nice."

"And on the baby's cape and his little jumpers. Because I'm proud. I'm so very, very proud." Amelia glanced over at Severus and smiled brightly. He turned away.

"That's nice, but perhaps we really should double check..."

"It's done, Miss Granger. I'm not paying for a second run. What do you want? Shouldn't you be studying for the potions exam?"

"The exam isn't until next Friday, sir."

"It's going to be very difficult. This is no time to procrastinate."

Ignoring him, she again focused on Amelia. "Mrs. Snape, I'd like to locate your father. I'd like to talk to him, and ask him why he treated you so poorly."

Snape sighed and looked down bitterly. Amelia swallowed hard and shook her head.

"No, Hermoine. He's probably dead. I don't know where he is. I haven't seen him since I was a girl."

"If Professor Snape could give him a drop or two of the veritaserum, we could possibly get to the bottom of why he treated you the way he did – and thereby help you discover your identity."

"You're talking like it was Amelia's fault," Snape said icily. "I don't care if she was half Dementor, half Deatheater, he had no right to mistreat her so."

Hermoine nodded. "I agree, sir. I just thought, perhaps, it could shed important light on the mystery of her powers."

Snape raked a hand through his hair, trying to stop the headache that was pounding somewhere in the back of his skull. Amelia felt the same pain, and took Severus Jr. into her arms, holding him tightly and trying to bury herself in the wonderful, sweet scents of his hair and his skin – hoping this girl would somehow go away.

"I'll escort you back to your quarters, Miss Granger. Amelia, stay here with the baby. I think he's hungry."

"Oh my…I'm so sorry, Severus," She swept up the baby and ripped open her blouse. Snape swept to his feet and hustled Hermoine off by the arm.

--

"Sir, I don't understand your attitude," Hermoine said a bit impatiently as they hurried up the hillside. "I thought you wanted me to find out your wife's magical identity."

"Miss Granger," he took a deep breath, "I'm afraid her father could be dangerous. He…committed her to an institution after her mother's death. Amelia had, understandably, been very upset by the tragedy – and he took advantage of her fragile emotional state to admit her to a…mental institution."

Hermoine's eyes filled with pain. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm so sorry."

"After Amelia was admitted, the blackguard disappeared again. Thankfully, Professor McGonigall came to her aid – and helped her escape…I mean, get released."

Hermoine's forehead creased in regret, and she said nothing.

"The point is, my wife doesn't know this. It has to stay that way. She'll die if she finds out her father betrayed her so; and naturally, I will kill anyone who tells her – or starts a rumor – or tells someone else who starts a rumor. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

Hermoine sighed tiredly. "Professor Snape, there's just one last detail I wanted to tell you."

"What now?"

"Her father is a Deatheater."

Whatever he was about to say washed from his mind like the tide. He stopped. Dead. Frozen. Horrified.

"I beg your pardon?"

"A Deatheater, sir, like you used to be."

"Keep your voice down," he snapped.

His hand, as if by its own will, was reaching for his wand. How wonderful it would be to take it out, say those two beautiful words, and…

Hermoine removed a yellowed article from her cape.

"Here we are, sir. Her mother's engagement announcement. It made the school newspaper because she was a Hogwarts graduate."

He glanced at it. "It doesn't say anything about Deatheaters. Why the hell do you claim he is one?"

"I researched his last name, Garrett, and it came back."

"It _came back_? Came back from where?" he exclaimed.

"The American Association of Deatheaters-Greater Topeka chapter. I came upon their roster."

"What? How the hell did you find their roster?" Snape asked incredulously.

"The computer, sir," she said proudly. "In Hogsmeade."

"That's forbidden."

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore just doesn't want to invest in a good system and take the school into the 21st Century, like he should."

"How dare you speak of your headmaster with such disrespect. Professor Dumbledore believes in the time-honored traditions of magical pedagogy and research."

"He's tight. Anyway, it only took me two minutes…I mean, two hours…" She glanced furtively at her pocketbook. "I included the cost in my expense report."

He cursed under his breath and forced himself to let go of the wand.

"Deatheaters are listed on the _computer_?" he whispered incredulously.

"Just about everything is, these days, sir. I've been saying that to Professor Dumbledore for years. We need to modernize around here, but it always gets back to the budget with him. With all due respect, I'm beginning to think he's tight."

"Jesus..."

"Britain's chapters seem to be more discreet about membership listings. I couldn't find you anywhere."

Severus sank down on a bench, trying to catch his breath. Hermoine smiled neatly and handed him the expense report.


	53. Book 2 Chapter 28

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 28

As they sat watching the sun set later that day, Severus held the baby in his arms, bouncing him here and there and making faces to make him laugh. Pink streaks crossed the blue sky and just a hint of rose filtered through the air.

Smiling to himself, Snape picked up a stone. With a quick flick of his wrist, he skipped it across the calm waters of the lake. It must have skipped four times; then backward three; then ahead two. It sank with a neat splash. Amelia laughed and hugged him. The baby giggled and cooed in delight.

Snape picked up another stone and flipped it up in the air, with a slightly different wrist movement. It skipped across the lake twice, sprang back into the air in a somersault; down again, twice across the water – and back into his hand.

Severus Jr. wiggled and giggled and held out his hands to try. Snape folded the stone into his son's fingers, covered his hand with his own, and then flicked both their wrists. The stone swept over the water, skipped four times; then up into the air in a spiral, and down with a great splash. The baby laughed in joy, and threw his arms around his father's neck.

"How did you ever learn that?" Amelia asked in true admiration. "Is it magical?"

"No. I've spent a lot of time alone before you came along to pester me. You read lots of books; skip lots of stones; torture a lot of people. You know how it goes."

Laughing merrily, she reached up and kissed him softly. His lips responded gently and tenderly, and he cupped her face in his free hand.

"You're beautiful," he said softly.

"No, I'm not." She looked down and blushed.

"Yes, you are. You're a vision. I don't deserve the dirt you walk on. I don't deserve…"

There was a hint of sadness in his voice. A melancholy that was there, somewhere. In some intonation of his voice. In some echo.

"What's wrong?" she asked gently.

"Amelia…" he began softly, slipping his arm around her.

"Yes," she answered, smiling adoringly into his eyes.

His jaw tightened.

"I love you."

That was it. Something was horribly wrong. She just knew it. He was dying. Oh God, he had some incurable wizard's disease. How many months were left? Automatically, her hand flew against his forehead.

"Are you ill?" she asked in raw panic. "Oh my God, you're warm…"

Shrugging off her hand, he frowned.

Her stormy eyes were full of concern, and she reached for his forehead once again.

"Good God, can't I tell you I love you without being accused of delirium?" He drew her hand away.

"I'm sorry, but I usually have to feign depression – or talk about suicide…or..."

"I am not hearing this." He frowned in disgust.

"Or just pry it out. Sometimes, I can pry it out. Kind of like prying a pearl out of an oyster."

"Your mother has started and she isn't going to stop," he told Severus Jr. "You just have to wait it out. Like stomach flu."

"...a stubborn, grumpy oyster that refuses to open, so you have to take a huge wrench and pry and pry and pry. And then the shell finally opens for a second..."

She smiled proudly at her poetry. She'd have to submit this one to the newspaper.

"Are you finished, Miss Rossetti?" he asked dryly and she held up a finger.

"…and the pearl, the precious stone of love, appears, just for a sacred moment." She glowed at her genius.

"I think pearls are semi-precious," he replied. "And most of them are cultured in oyster farms."

"Oh."

He smiled acidly.

"Well, how about a diamond that…"

His eyes narrowed. "I'm truly wounded. The woman I love describing me as a grumpy oyster. I bare my soul, and you judge me, once again."

She clenched her hands remorsefully. "I didn't mean to judge, Severus." She took his hand.

"Quit feeling for my pulse, Amelia."

Smiling sheepishly, she looked down.

"I profess my pure, aesthetic love for you, and you judge me. I thought we had this talk a few days ago."

Her forehead creased. "Yes, well…it won't hurt to check your throat…" She opened the picnic basket and dug for a tongue depressor.

He frowned. "I'm not ill. I swear."

Seeing the deep, sincere worry on her face and in her eyes, he paused. She was a nurse, after all, and perhaps he was acting just a bit abnormal. Naturally, her first instinct would be to check his vital signs.

"I'm sorry, my dear," he said in a gentler voice. "Please don't worry. I promise I'm not sick. There…may be just a tidbit of bad news."

She closed the basket and stood to face him, most of the warmth escaping from her body. He cleared his throat.

"My dear, you may have a choice to make. A difficult choice."

Grimly, she glanced off into the hillsides and crossed her arms to warm herself. But no warmth came now. And the scenery seemed to fade to black and white.

"If we continue investigating these pranks, we may find out information. Painful information."

"I don't follow you," she answered softly.

"Information about your parents. About you. We just don't know yet."

She nodded thoughtfully. "I don't want our son to be in danger. I don't want to feel threatened all of the time - worried about the next room being yellow; or the next dinner being full of poison…"

He smiled gently and studied her eyes intensely.

"Would you want to know, Amelia? Do you want to know what Miss Granger and I find out? Would it hurt too much?"

She paused and then looked back at him.

"If you think I should know, tell me. I put my life in your hands when we married."

"Damn it, I knew you'd say something like that," he muttered.

She slipped her arm around him. "I think I know what you're going to say, anyway."

"No. I'm going to tell you something horrible, but something I think you should know. Oddly, I think it may ease some of the pain…about your father."

She felt her own pulse start to gallop, and a twinge of nausea hit her stomach, like when she was getting a test back; or reading not-so-good results of someone's X-rays.

Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath.

"I know he didn't love us, Severus. There can't be more pain than knowing that. More detail doesn't matter."

"Perhaps it does," he said, with a bit more hope in his voice. "Perhaps it does."

"What do you mean?"

"Amelia, it appears as though your father was a Deatheater. I don't know if he was a wizard. I don't know if he was a muggle spy…but he belonged to the Deatheaters. Miss Granger discovered it earlier this week."

All of the warmth evaporated from her body, and she felt herself go cold and numb. For a few moments, the hideous, yellow color seemed to flash before her eyes and then fade; flare up and fade again.

"I am telling you this because I'm hoping it may comfort you."

"How?" she managed, in a croak.

"Because I know the way Deatheaters think. Amelia, when I joined them, I was so filled with hatred and anger and frustration…I didn't know it was a poisonous alliance. I thought we were _right_. I thought Peter Pettigrew was _right_. And that everyone else was wrong. Everyone else was the enemy."

Studying him intently, she just nodded and continued listening.

"Often, when people have been hurt; when they're enraged and spiteful, as I was, they believe they're correct in feeling that way. If they're lucky, the truth eventually forces them to realize how wrong they were to begin with."

"You realized it, Severus. I think that's commendable."

"You're very charitable, my dear, and I feel extremely fortunate. But many aren't so fortunate. To this day, Deatheaters staunchly believe they're _right_. They're right to be enraged; they're right to destroy those who block their paths; they're right to seek violent revenge and ultimate tyranny."

Her blood had turned to ice. Only the tender warmth of his hands over hers kept her from passing out then and there.

"Your father didn't reject _you_, Amelia. He was a fanatic. He may have been fanatical enough to want to destroy you and your mother – for the cause. He may have feared your powers, Amelia. You see through everything. Perhaps he feared you could see through him, and his allies."

"But why would he have married her to begin with?" she asked. "And why would they have had me?"

"Those are questions we need to ask. He may not have been a Deatheater when they married. Or he may have – and hoped to convert her with the marriage bond and use her power. Or he may have been a muggle spy."

Her eyes darkened and she sighed miserably. "Ever have one of those _lives _where nothing goes right?"

He laughed softly. "You're sounding more like me every day."

"Remind me how this is supposed to make me feel better?" she asked bleakly.

He sighed tiredly. "Because…now you don't have to take his rejection so personally. He was a Deatheater. They're all fanatics. They hate everyone. Hatred is their motivation; their fuel."

She just sighed again.

"If your mother refused to become involved with his cause, she was an enemy; and so were you, if she was protecting you."

Depressing as they were, something about his words made sense. And something did seem to lift in her heart. She slipped her arms around him and smiled.

"But we need to know more," he continued. "And there's one person who may help us."

"Who?" she asked curiously.

"Lucius Malfoy. Narcissa mentioned him when I gave her the veritaserum."

"But he's in Azkaban," Amelia reminded him.

"Yes. It's horrible and dangerous." He smiled provocatively. That was all she needed.

"Let's go."

His eyes lit up. "I love you. I really do."

They laughed brightly and skipped a few more stones.


	54. Book 2 Chapter 29

Book 2: Chapter 29

"Albus, may Amelia and I take a short holiday this weekend?" Severus asked blandly, that night at dinner.

Amelia stifled a smile as she glanced from her husband to Albus and then back. Minerva, who was sitting beside Albus, suddenly studied them intently.

Albus dabbed his cheek with a napkin. "Why? You were gone for nearly a year."

"Oh, just for a…change of scenery. You know…a honeymoon. Amelia and I never had a honeymoon."

Albus shrugged and helped himself to more lamb stew. "You're on a constant honeymoon. It's rather unsettling."

"Well, we…need a bit of time away from the baby."

"That's ridiculous. He's always with those snakes. And how will he eat?"

Happily, Amelia pulled a breast pump out of her handbag and smiled. "I'm a walking dairy farm. I can pump enough milk to feed this entire hall."

Choking on his biscuit, Albus nodded.

"Where were you planning on going?" he inquired.

"Oh, you know. London, Stratford…Azkaban," Snape murmured.

"Excuse me? The third destination again, please?"

"Didn't I say Stratford?" Snape attempted.

"No. I think Stratford came second."

"I miss Lucius. I want to visit him. Narcissa says he's lonely."

"No."

"Amelia wants to see what all the fuss is about?" he attempted.

"Out of the question. Stop wheedling. You're sounding more like your wife every day. No offense, Amelia."

Snape leaned forward in desperation. "Headmaster, whoever is doing this, I believe, has a link to Amelia's father."

"How can you be so sure?" Minerva asked, intruding into the conversation from Albus' left. "Her father hasn't been in contact with me at all. And Draco did the food poisoning. He's most likely at the bottom of all this."

"Draco is _still_ living in a box," Snape reminded her. "He's not masterminding anything. But Narcissa told me that Lucius may know something."

Minerva bristled. "I…do need to get out there, it's true. I've been a bit busy. Narcissa and I just can't seem to coordinate our schedules."

"Interesting." Snape smiled frigidly.

"Azkaban is forbidden," Albus said.

"No, it's not. Visiting hours are Saturdays, two to four."

"Nothing has happened to warrant such a risky trip."

"Nothing?" Snape remarked. "Poisonings? Yellow rooms? Those turtle sweets?"

"Those sweets were fine," Albus said. "Quite good, really."

"They were meant for my wife. They probably would have killed her if she'd eaten one."

"You're getting as melodramatic as Amel…I mean…a bad actor."

Snape's mouth dropped.

"No honeymoon trips' to Azkaban."

"But Amelia can withstand the Dementors. And with the marriage bond, I should be fine."

"No."

Minerva pressed her lips firmly together, but said nothing.

"So, we'll wait like sitting ducks until this invader traps us for good? Kills us? Kidnaps my son?"

Albus sighed. "Severus, things aren't so dire. Concentrate on getting well. A yellow room…it could be Amelia's imagination. It's all coincidence. You're safest here."

Severus' hands were shaking with rage and he caught Minerva's eye. She glanced away.

"Is that what you want?" he hissed. "You're niece and grandnephew…just waiting for whomever this is? Waiting for it to get worse and worse?"

Minerva swallowed a healthy gulp of wine and refused to reply.

--

A soft knock sounded at Snape's office, late, late that night. Opening it, Severus held up a candle to see Minerva's shadowy face.

"Yes?" he asked gloomily.

"Here." She thrust two black tickets into his hand. "Dress warm. I'll watch the baby."

His face lit up and he eagerly took the tickets.

"Thank you, Minerva. Thank you."

She stepped back into the darkness. "There's only one ferry a week. Friday night. Be on it."

He nodded darkly.

"Take the Express to London. At midnight, the convict train comes. A secure compartment has been reserved for you. Once you're to the harbor, they'll direct you. I'll cover your classes if you mix me a polyjuice potion."

He smiled and kissed her hand. "I love you, _auntie_."

Her eyes snapped shut as if he'd shocked her. "Please…_please _don't say that."

He nodded obediently, trying not to laugh. Turning to leave, she looked back briefly.

"Hold onto her hand at all times. _All _times."

"Of course. I owe you my life."

"I may collect one day. Just…try to get to the bottom of all this. She's been through enough."

Before he could respond at all, she was gone.


	55. Book 2 Chapter 30

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 30

Severus was late for dinner. He was never late for anything. Amelia glanced at the wall clock for the tenth time and took a nervous breath. Her appetite had faded, as she watched each minute tick by. The conversation around her quickly became a blurry buzz of nothingness. Something was not right.

Finally, she rose from the table, handed Severus Jr. to Harry, and hurried out to find her husband.

Walking down the quiet corridors, she shivered. Something felt wrong. Was he ill? Everything was so quiet. The walls seemed to watch her. The air was so still. Not a single student passed. The windows seemed to stare with their blank eyes.

Concentrating hard, for the halls still had a way of tricking her, she expertly navigated several twists and turns and down the final set of curving steps toward his laboratory. At the end of those stairs was a faint light.

Sighing in relief, she smiled. But then that relief faded.

The yellow. Just a bit coming from some crack underneath or through the door. Yellow. Well, what was wrong with it? What harm was in a bit of yellow light? Get a hold of yourself, Amelia. You can't be afraid of that light forever. Albus was right. She'd been overreacting. Perhaps It was time to face her fears. It was probably just his desk lamp, anyway.

Slowly, she inched toward it, her throat contracting painfully with each step.

There was the door - unhinged just a bit. The yellow light shown from beneath. She paused in sick reluctance.

"Amelia…"

Was that Severus' voice? It was deep and rich, but something was lacking. Oh, Amelia, please stop the melodrama. Stop it. You're always over-reacting. You're such a chaotic, mixed-up, bad, evil, abomination…

Her head began to pound. The door swung a bit farther open and more light escaped. She couldn't stop looking at it. It was drawing her in. Almost as if it were magnetic.

The familiar nausea began to creep over her but she refused to stop. No. She would not run. She was so tired of running. Had she been not been running most of her life? It certainly felt that way. Running to Hogwarts; running away. Running back; running down the halls. Running. No more.

Reluctantly, she opened the door a little more; a little more; a little more and stepped into the glare.

When she entered, the yellow light was screaming everywhere. Like the sun had fallen out of the sky, right into this room.

But it was so bright. Where was the soothing darkness; the wonderful shadows; the scary blackness. Where were the chairs? Where were the desks?

And why was it so small? There was a sink. And a mirror. And a bathtub. And a horrible, yellow fluorescent light bulb that seemed to absorb the entire ceiling. Had she gone the wrong way and stepped into an unknown bathroom?

But she knew, with sickening clarity, that this place wasn't unfamiliar. It was her bathroom. Not at Hogwarts. In Topeka.

She raked her hands through her hair and turned to leave, but the door slammed shut with a boom.

A tall figure rose up from behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"You neglected her," his voice suggested smoothly. "And you killed her."

Arms limp at her sides, she stood, staring in horror. Not a trace of black. No wonderful black in sight. Just yellow. And white. Horrible, nauseating, glaring white. Her uniform.

A man she hadn't seen for nearly two years stood beside her, towering over her like a strange specter of himself. His eyes were a piercing blue. Not the warm, wonderful blue of her mother's. A cold, cruel, arrogant blue.

"Were too you busy with your alchemy to notice that she needed you?" Her father hissed. "Or just too busy walking cornfields and smearing that black on your eyes?"

Amelia stood, speechless and numb. Suddenly, she'd forgotten the English language. She'd also forgotten a certain trademark bitterness in his voice. Now it came rushing back like a sick, red tide.

"You're a horrible mistake," he said in a fierce growl. "You should be on your knees begging for forgiveness."

Her mouth fell open and tears sprang into her eyes.

"You neglected her. You killed her."

Her eyes were pools of tears. "No. I didn't. You left us. You should have been here with us. I was taking good care of her."

The tears streamed down her cheeks, staining her pale, blotchy face.

"I had to work. She was sick. I had to keep money in the bank. I had to keep our insurance going. She needed so much medicine."

"Rationalization doesn't become you."

"Stop it!" she screamed, her hands balling into fists. "Stop it!"

There was some sort of booming, as if a door had flown open, but she could see nothing beyond the glare of the light.

"This was all your fault," he hissed. "You neglected her horribly. Because of you, she killed herself. She's burning in a lake of fire - because of you. Your own husband is fighting for his powers – because of you. Everything is because of you."

"No," Amelia whispered, clutching her throat.

Suddenly, she remembered. The yellow bathroom light; the white sink. The pink sink. The red sink. Crimson splashes on the carpet. Blackness on the grass.

Red and white. Red over white. Over her white uniform. No chicken wire. No chicken wire at all.

"You couldn't even kill yourself right the first time. Do something right, Amelia." He smiled horribly and held up something silver.

Slowly, he passed her a gleaming straight razor. When he reached out to her, she saw the mark on his arm. The mark Severus had once shown her on his own arm.

Emotions and thoughts began to spin in her head, and her stomach knotted into a hard rock. Vaguely, she could hear someone's voice rise her way again, but no longer discerned any words.

"You even went and had a child," he sneered. "You, who cause devastation everywhere you go." His eyes glittered. "How can you possibly think you could care for a husband and a child?"

"You know about the baby?" she managed, her eyes wild with pain. Stifling the sob in her throat, she covered her ears, but his hands grasped her hands and wrenched them away.

"Nobody wants you. Not really. They say they do, but they don't. You know how tired they look. You see the regret in their eyes. Do everyone a favor. Do it right this time."

With tears rushing in rivers from her eyes, she nodded. "All right."

"Amelia…"

Turning, she glimpsed someone dark at the end of the steps…somewhere beyond this death room.

Smashing her eyes shut, she lifted the razor, sliced down across her artery, and stumbled toward the voice.


	56. Book 2 Chapter 31

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 31

It was well past dinner when Snape glanced at the clock in his office. Strange, the time hadn't seemed to pass that quickly. He'd just graded one lab report. How could it already be past dinner?

Snape rubbed his tired eyes. So stuffy in here. His head was throbbing. He was about to blow out the candles when a sharp pain seared across his wrist.

Wincing, he glanced down and saw a faint scratch, and a bit of blood began to ooze.

"What?" he whispered.

The mark grew larger and more pronounced. Quickly he grabbed a black vial and spread the contents over the gash. The bleeding stopped, but not the pain. Interesting. Just like Amelia's scar. Just the right angle. Just the right…throwing his chair back, he tore down the corridor toward the lab.

--

When Severus entered the laboratory, it wasn't soothing and dark as usual. Instead, it blazed with sick, yellow candles. Strange, it hadn't been occupied for hours and it was long past dinner. Why would all of the lamps and chandeliers be lit?

"Sit down and pay attention," barked the professor, from his lectern. "You're late again. I shall speak to the headmaster about you."

Snape found himself standing at the top of the steps - the focus of about 50 pairs of eyes. The room was full of students, as usual, but why? Class wasn't in session this late.

A few other things were _off_ – just a bit, but enough to be noticeable. The hairstyles? The uniforms?

All heads still riveted toward him. Insidious smiles crept over many faces. Chuckles, chortles and whispers began to waft through the air like incense, while his stomach knotted as it hadn't done in decades. Horrible and familiar.

Luckily, he noticed an open seat and shot to it. Glancing to his left, he saw a tall boy who made him feel even sicker. James Potter?

"Sit down, you idiot," James spat, jerking out the chair. "He'll make us all stay after."

Severus slumped low into the chair, but couldn't help staring at James, in horror and shock.

Not only was James about sixteen – but beside him sat Remus, Lilly and Sirius – also sixteen. He was either out of his mind, or swept back in time. Neither option sounded very good, but he prayed it was the first. Another round with them would kill him.

"Not even a quill. It figures," James snickered in disgust.

"We're you experimenting with your secret potions again?" Remus needled, snickering and throwing a paper wad at him.

Saying nothing, Snape glanced down. His hands were not his own. No scars, no burns, no calluses, no ring. A teenager's hands. A teenager's hands? Dear God, anything but that. Did he have to go through hell twice?

When he managed to catch a breath, his eyes were somehow drawn toward Sirius; perhaps just beyond Sirius, where a girl he somehow knew was sitting.

What a pretty girl. Long, black hair, warm blue eyes – and an arm around her shoulders. Sirius' arm. A thin stream of blood appeared to be running down her fingers.

The girl glanced at him and smiled, but then looked down sadly.

"Amelia," he whispered, his voice breaking into pieces. "Are we having the same dream?"

"Shut up, Snape," Sirius hissed. "You'll never have the same _anything_ with her, she's so far out of your league."

Severus forced his eyes shut. Voices kept speaking, shouting, in his ears until they rang. Were they the boys', or his own?

"Amelia, what are you doing with him?" he asked haltingly. "Come, for God's sake, sit with me."

James' eyes rolled and he leaned toward Snape. "She only chose you because there was no one else. She would have chosen one of us, if she'd had the chance."

Sinking deeper into the chair, Snape tried to close his eyes; praying this was a mere nightmare. All of the memories, the smells, the light, everything had come back in one nauseating rush. He tried to catch Amelia's eye but couldn't. There was nothing more to do. Quietly, he buttoned his cloak and left.

"What a pathetic loser," Sirius chuckled, letting his arm tighten around Amelia's shoulder.

She looked over at him, her eyes became slits of rage.

"You're not worth the dirt he walks on. Get your hands off of me," she hissed.

He stared at her in shock. "You're not supposed to say that."

Amelia wrenched free from his embrace and hurried out, purposely overturning his cauldron in the process.


	57. Book 2 Chapter 32

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 32

The potions closet was strictly off limits. That is, if one hadn't secretly crafted a key, and if one hadn't hidden it just above the tenth stone to the left of the doorknob. God, how did he know that?

Once inside the musty, cobwebbed room, Severus ran his hands up and down the shelves, examining various beakers and vials, putting them back, looking again. If he remembered, it was right behind the last jar of lizard tails.

Yes. There it was.

Exhausted, he sank into a heap of black, fingering a small, black vile, thinking.

Thinking, thinking, thinking. Wouldn't it be nice not to think anymore…not to feel…not to worry. That place. That wonderful place. A place of peace. And he'd found just the thing to get himself there very quickly.

Uncorking the bottle, he sniffed it curiously. It didn't really smell like much. Maybe a bit bitter. It probably didn't taste so bad. Suddenly he paused, as the door creaked open, and a shadow hurried inside and quietly closed the door.

It was that girl from class. It was hard to see her in the dimness, but she looked pretty. Her dress was a bit worn, but it didn't matter. She was a vision.

Smiling rather weakly, she eased down beside him, flipping open a straight razor.

"I'm sorry about those boys," she said with a warm smile. "They're hideous."

He eyed her curiously. "You look so familiar."

"So do you." Her eyes were sad, glittering with tears.

"What are you doing with that razor?" he asked.

"I didn't get quite deep enough the first time." She looked disapprovingly at the gash, which had already clotted.

"My God…why would you do such a thing?" he whispered.

Her eyes became large and earnest. "I'm a disaster, and I cause disaster wherever I go."

He studied her carefully and shook his head. "I don't think you're a disaster. I think you're…very nice."

She blushed. Nobody, especially a girl, had ever blushed with him before. She'd actually blushed. His grip on the vial loosened a bit.

"Why are you holding that?" she asked softly.

"To drink it," he replied.

"Why?" she asked.

"I've been deluding myself. You would have married James, or Sirius, or…"

She laughed softly. "Please. That's disgusting. You look better in black than any of them."

His face lit up. Pausing shyly, he took her hand, kissing the blood-stained wrist and attempting to clean it with his handkerchief.

"Please don't cut yourself again," he said softly.

"I'm doing something right, for once in my life."

"You must have done something right."

"No, not really. My father says I'm an abomination."

He shrugged. "So what? You're pretty. I'm an abomination, too. Let's be abominable together."

Her eyes widened in surprise, then in joy. She smiled brilliantly. "I love you. What's your name?"

"Severus."

"That's very nice."

"What's yours?" he asked.

"Amelia."

"I knew that, somehow."

"Why were those revolting boys giving you such a hard time?" she asked.

"Because I'm…me."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Then you're the only one in the castle who doesn't."

"I'm sorry. I guess I'm a little slow, tonight. Blood loss and all that."

His eyes gained a little more life.

"I can mix you a potion to make you feel stronger."

"Really?"

"Yes. They all think potions are stupid and silly. But, Amelia, they can do wonders."

"I love them," she glowed, her eyes huge with adoration.

"I could show you a few," he said hesitantly.

"That would be lovely."

"Just give me the razor."

Her smile faded. "No. I'd better just get this over with. It's inevitable."

"Please, don't do it. You'll be leaving me completely alone. Completely."

"Then…you can't drink that poison. And I know that's what it is," she said gently.

"I won't, if you won't."

Her forehead creased, and she looked down thoughtfully.

"I'm nothing but bad luck," she said.

"You're the only luck I've ever had," he answered, not quite sure how he knew that.

They both paused and studied each other in bewilderment and curiosity. Leaning forward, their lips touched softly.

"Want to get married?" he asked, tossing the vial aside.

"And have lots of babies?" she whispered, placing the razor in his hand.

His forehead creased. "Well, I don't know…"

The room began to rotate and then to spin. Strange echoes of the tide roared in her ears, like wave crashing to shore.

She felt herself lose her balance and fall, like the feeling she'd sometimes had just before she'd gone to sleep. Falling and falling. Until she finally hit the bottom. Cold and hard – no light anywhere – and a weight on top of her.

Blinking tiredly, she opened her eyes and saw Severus' worried, lined face looking down at her, and she moaned softly and just held on.

"Where are we?" he whispered.

"I don't know," she answered, trying to stop her head from spinning.

"Were we having the same dream?" he asked.

"I think so. Or they got mixed together somehow."

Easing up next to him, she leaned her head on his shoulder. Her hand touched something sharp and she winced and looked down.

The straight razor. She picked it up and sighed tiredly. The voices. Yes. Now she remembered.

He took it from her, closed it and placed it in his pocket.

Glimpsing a small black vial to one side of him, she took it and poured its contents onto the floor.


	58. Book 2 Chapter 33

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 33

"You know, no matter how bad things get, there's just something about these that makes everything better." Severus let his hands glide aimlessly across her breasts.

"Everything else in the universe just disappears."

It was ridiculously late, but wonderfully dark, as they relaxed together in the steamy waters of their huge, old bathtub.

Beautiful, soothing darkness. Just a few black candles burning around them - and warm, soapy water.

Amelia laughed softly and closed her eyes, listening to the beat of his heart, as she laid back in his arms. It was so good to be out of that horrid yellow light and here in his embrace, surrounded by comforting shadows and soothing blackness. She could lay there forever.

"I have the world's worst day ahead of me and I can't sleep," he remarked. "It's all your fault, as usual."

"Maybe this bath will help," she said, with a contented smile.

"No. Just the breasts," he said happily. "They're the real reason I married you."

"Well, I suppose that's better than some of your past reasons," she answered, reaching back and kissing him.

As she lowered her arm, she glimpsed her wrist, which was still raw and swollen.

"I'm so glad I didn't do it," she whispered. "At least, all the way."

He nodded and gently rinsed the last of the soap from her hair.

"Whoever's behind this is too clever for comfort," he remarked. "The death curse is forbidden and far too risky. Tricking us into double suicide is a clever way around. Ingenious, really. A fool like Malfoy would never think of such a ploy."

Shuddering, she tried to push the images from her mind. If she never saw another straight razor again, it would be too soon.

"It was interesting that our dreams kind of came together," she mused. "Do you think the marriage bond helped us do that?"

"I suppose it's possible," he replied. "I did feel a very sharp pain across my wrist. Look…" He showed her a faint red mark across his left wrist.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I might be dead now, if it weren't for you."

"You say that a lot." He smiled and kissed the back of her neck.

"You were adorable back then," she said, blushing.

"I was hideous. At best, you'd have walked past me like I'd been wearing an invisibility cloak."

"I can see through those silly cloaks."

"Well then, something else. Glass, or plastic…you know what I mean."

"You're so wrong. I would be right here."

"In my bathtub?"

"Sure." She blushed again.

"You're wanton. I've changed my mind. Get out." He took up the large sponge and squeezed water over her head. She laughed and laughed.

"Sirius was telling the truth," he said darkly. "You're light years out of my league. I have no right to you."

"Sirius was a fool," she replied warmly.

"You'd have despised me, like they all did."

Her eyes grew large and earnest. "You're so wrong. I would have sat by you in potions class and pretended not to understand so you'd have helped me."

"Pretended?"

"I'd have thought up a way to be your lab partner, and you could have taught me the potions."

His arms closed around her and he leaned forward, resting his head on her left shoulder.

"You would have bothered with me, even then?"

She kissed him gently and nodded. "Severus, you need to see your past for what it was."

"Oh?" he whispered, laughing softly. "What was it?"

"Obviously, they were all just jealous of you. You were so good looking and smart…it was pure envy."

He drew her closer and chuckled. "Is that right?"

"Of course. It was _so_ obvious."

"And to think, I misinterpreted their feelings all these years...let it all ruin me. Let it turn me toward the dark side. And it was all just jealousy."

"It was clear as day."

He shook his head hopelessly. "You're besotted, Amelia. You're completely beyond redemption."

She turned to him and looked deeply into his eyes. "Call me what you want, but I had forgotten…"

"Forgotten what?" he asked.

"How much I didn't want to live when I first came here."

"I think your aunt was aware of that."

"And then I met you."

"And that _wasn't _the final straw?" he remarked.

"Actually, working in that lonely potions closet came close. But little by little, bit by bit, I began to look forward to waking up; instead of praying to die each night."

"I've done my share of that," he said darkly.

"After awhile, I was curious to see what the next day would bring; what you might say; how you'd figure out a way to scold me. I started to hope I could somehow make you smile. I started to look forward to mornings. You did that, Severus."

"You have a lot more scolding to look forward to, my dear. I'm…going to give you the best life I can. As ironic as it sounds, I'm glad we're going to Azkaban."

"I am, too. That dream…it made me want to die again. It twisted my thoughts and brought back those feelings. Even with our beautiful baby…oh Severus, if I'd left him…oh my God…"

She began to cry softly. He sat up and held her tightly, just letting her cry it out.

"My dear, don't even think it. There's no possible way I'll let Potter raise him. All that marriage-bond nonsense…it was probably just my aversion to that idea that led me into your dream."

She smiled through her tears. "I'm glad for that bond. So glad."

"For all of its drawbacks, it may have a few minor benefits."


	59. Book 2 Chapter 34

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 34

"Severus, do you think we might drop by Diagnon Alley for a few minutes before we head out to Azkaban?"

Amelia looked up hopefully from her sewing, as the train roared its way to London.

"Why?" he asked from behind the newspaper.

"I'd like to buy a wand."

"Why don't we explore London, instead?"

"No, thank you. I don't care for cities."

"Oh, but the shopping there is better than in Diagnon Alley."

"I've heard Diagnon Alley is scary…and mysterious."

"No, it's not scary. And not a bit mysterious; rather common, actually."

"I'd like a wand. It can be a belated Valentine's gift."

"I told you Valentine's Day was a sham."

Smiling in defeat, she leaned back against him and opened her locket. On one side was the picture of her mother. On the other, she'd inserted a picture of Severus Jr.

"I miss the baby." She sniffled just a bit. "I miss him already and we haven't been gone two hours."

"I know what will cheer you up." he said, too brightly for comfort.

"What?" She wiped a stray tear.

"Harrods."

"What?"

"A prestigious….I mean scary, dark, forbidden store in London."

"No, thank you. I don't like those stores. Those perfume ladies always pounce on me - like cheetahs. I feel like prey."

"But it has _lovely_ black clothing."

"I already have lovely clothing. Please, may I have a wand? Everyone else has one."

She looked up into his eyes with big, hypnotic, pleading, loving, adoring, starry, blue eyes.

His lips twisted into a frown. "I'm disappointed in you. If everyone else jumped off a cliff, would you?"

"I just don't believe you, sometimes. A wand might help me do honest, constructive magic."

"Nothing could help…I mean, wands are over-rated."

She smiled and laughed softly.

"Harry told me about the wand shop. It sounds so mysterious. You know what he said?"

"Please, tell me. I hang on every word Potter says." He forced an acid smile.

"Harry said the wand actually _chooses_ its owner. Is that true, Severus?"

"Never trust Potter. He embellishes everything to place himself in the best possible light."

"…I thought that was the most interesting thing I've ever heard..."

"A transparent ploy to sell overpriced merchandise to naive young students."

"I'd love to see that shop."

"Yes, well, I'm sorry, but it's closed Fridays."

"Why would it be closed?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"It's…the wizard's Sabbath."

"We're Catholic. Our Sabbath is Sunday."

"The wand shop is run by a Jewish family."

"The Jewish religion takes _Saturday_ as the Sabbath."

Clearing his throat, he looked down.

Her mouth dropped open in shock. "Oh my God. You're lying to me. I'm _so_ slow sometimes."

He stifled a chuckle and looked back at the paper.

"You lie and lie and it takes me forever to figure it out." She tried to be indignant, but couldn't help but dissolve into laughter as she watched him struggle not to smile.

Refusing to look at her, he lit a cigarette and looked out the opposite window.

For a few moments there was silence as she sought to figure out a way to convince him. Finally, she smiled, a bit wickedly.

"Severus…" she whispered, with a blush and a sly smile.

He glanced at her in more disapproval.

"Yes?"

"If you let me get a wand…I'll let you…" She whispered the rest into his ear and kissed the nape of his neck. "Right here, on the train. Right now."

His mouth dropped open. "You have absolutely no dignity. Offering yourself…for a wand…"

"An interesting way to put it," she laughed, kissing him softly, lingering just long enough to trap him.

He paused. Cursing softly, he unfastened his cloak. She laughed softly and tumbled on top of him.


	60. Book 2 Chapter 35

Book 2 CHAPTER 35

"It wasn't any good; the trade is off."

He smiled smugly and slipped his fingers around hers.

She laughed and kissed him softly. "I'm so crazy about you. I just love you to death."

They were hurrying down the crazy main pathway of Diagnon Alley, trying to avoid the hustle and bustle of the bizarre arcade.

A light snow was falling, which was probably good, because it softened the overall feel of the place. It didn't feel comfortable; it didn't really feel uncomfortable – somewhere between.

"It's always been rather common," Severus remarked, barely dodging some kind of pushcart.

"It is kind of interesting," she mused. "I'd love to see it in more detail."

"Let's just buy you a wand and get this over with. "

Amelia had never seen a more motley crew. Witches and wizards were the milder ones. God knew what some of them even were. Severus remained glued to her and she clenched his hand like a lifeline.

Some of the people were blurry, if they were people, and she couldn't quite focus on them. Others were clear as crystal, and very suspicious looking.

The street wasn't beautiful, but it wasn't completely ugly. Kind of a jumble, like an impressionist painting of a city in rain. Colors of every hue, banners, crooked steps, strange rooftops and chimneys. Like a crazy dream.

Muddy snow packed the cobblestones and gutters. Just a few snow flurries drifted to the ground now and then, and a damp chill filled the air.

At last, they rounded a corner and Snape led her up a few precarious, crooked steps, into a dark, musty closet of a store that had teetering shelves climbing to the warped ceiling.

A few customers milled about, and Amelia noticed that the shelves were stuffed with various types of wands.

Golden wands, wooden wands, ornate, simple – all shapes and sizes. A few cats wandered about, and she picked up a little black one and held it close, as they approached the counter.

"We want a wand. What's on sale?" Snape asked tersely.

The proprietor smiled. "For you, Professor? You already have the best."

"For my wife. Something inexpensive. And sturdy."

Amelia's lips twisted into a mild frown as she pushed in next to him.

"Do you have any _pretty_ ones?" she asked.

"Oh yes, ma'am. We have the finest array of wands in England. We also engrave, for a small additional fee."

"That sounds lovely," she dreamed. "_Amelia plus Severus_ _equals_…"

"How about something from that discount table over there," Severus interrupted, pointing.

"Do you have any with opal, to match my ring?" She gazed adoringly at her hand.

"Opal doesn't make any magical difference." Snape frowned impatiently.

"Yes, it does," she attempted.

"No, it doesn't."

"Yes, it does," the clerk said eagerly, his eyes glittering from the scent of a larger commission.

"This is ridiculous. Just let us see those wands over there," Snape nodded toward the discount table.

She frowned. "You're so tight-fisted. You never spend a cent."

"Not on you, if I can help it."

She sighed deeply.

"Oh Amelia, I spend it all on your wardrobe. And the psychiatrists. Don't forget those."

Blushing, she laughed and slipped her arms around him.

"Here's a nice one, sir." The proprietor handed them a gleaming, mahogany wand and he barely glanced at it.

"It's boring," she complained.

"It's perfect." He reached for his billfold.

"But sir," the clerk insisted, "your wife must handle the wand, to see if it's a proper match."

"That's marketing rubbish. Wrap it up."

"I don't think it's rubbish." Amelia smiled.

"Wands are selective; they must bond with their masters," the clerk persisted, turning toward her. "You need to hold it and see how it feels."

She smiled in anticipation and reached for it.

--

"All right, stop crying. It wasn't that bad."

As the midnight train charged to the harbor, Snape placed a second shot of scotch in front of her and she downed it so fast he studied her in a mixture of surprise and admiration.

"I'm so embarrassed," she wept. "He threw us out, Severus. He threw us out. Has that ever even happened before?"

He paused. "Yes, actually. Yes, it has."

"You are _such_ a liar," she muttered.

"Potter got thrown out."

She glared at him indignantly, catching the mirth in his eyes. "You'll say _anything_ to avoid dealing with my issues."

"Don't I have enough of them to deal with? Couldn't we please just…skip this one?"

She blew her nose, and covered her eyes with her hand. "I'm so humiliated. That store clerk hates me."

"You'll get used to it. Everyone hates me." He crossed his legs and gulped down his own glass.

"He said he'll sue the school. This will be in the papers. Albus will definitely throw me out now."

"No, he won't."

"Yes, he will. I'm already on thin ice because of all the trouble with Draco and Narcissa. And now I'm costing him money."

"He's quite merciful, Amelia. I'm sure he'll let you work it off in the kitchens."

She looked down in shame. "I'm a disgrace to magic."

"No, you're not. Well, perhaps a little, but…"

"I destroyed three wands."

"Four, I believe."

Her eyes widened in horror.

"Don't worry. They were on the sales table."

"Pardon me," said the conductor, tapping on the glass. "We're here."


	61. Book 2 Chapter 36

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 36

"Here at Azkaban, we operate under philosophy: _Why reinvent the wheel?_"

"It's absolute insanity to suffer through this public relations travesty." Snape scowled and glanced impatiently at his watch. "I've never heard of such bad taste."

Amelia stifled a smile and kept her eyes fixed on the pamphlet to avoid being noticed by the warden.

They were seated in first of three rows of newly convicted inmates, in the central booking unit.

Clearing his throat, Warden Virgil continued.

"Our state-of-the-art penitentiary owes much of its greatness to the brilliance of former corrections pioneers. We honor and continue their legacy while contributing some, modest progress of our own."

Amelia leaned forward in keen interest, while Severus' forehead creased in his signature "get me the hell out of here" frown.

Virgil smiled proudly. "We've taken ideas from all over the world. The best of the best. Azkaban is what it is today because we've adopted landmark penal innovations of the past, while keeping an eye toward the future."

"Always an intelligent attitude," Amelia said glowingly, as Snape's face darkened further.

"We've borrowed from the masters. Take the popes. Innocent III and Gregory IX - trailblazers of their times..."

"…for starting the Inquisitions?" Snape asked incredulously.

Virgil smiled. "Who can forget their contributions to the fine art of interrogation? The rack, the thumb screw…useful and beautiful tools whose efficacy cannot be surpassed when questioning uncooperative suspects."

"I need a cigarette," Severus remarked, while Amelia took out a pen and began taking notes.

"We've borrowed from our friends in France, as well. Never to be outdone in matters cultural, the French developed a new twist on an old theme, with their ingenious oubliettes.'"

"What are those?" Amelia waved her hand in the air.

Virgil glanced at her and smiled. "Let's look at the word. The French, _oubliere_, means _to forget_. Hence, the noun, _oubliette_. You just toss a prisoner in a hole, or a cell if one's available - and forget. An effective method of incarceration, and a thrifty way to economize in an increasingly competitive industry."

"It is practical, you have to admit," she remarked.

"The prisoners eat what's available, so it's a natural way to control rodent overpopulation; which is a veritable epidemic in our industry."

Snape was holding his head in his hands.

"And, keep this to yourselves, but we've stolen a few ideas from our ornery cousins in the states. Who's heard of Joseph Arpaio?"

"I have, I have," Amelia called.

"My, you really are up-to-date, ma'am. Care to elaborate?"

"No," Snape snapped.

Amelia nodded, standing up and smoothing her skirt, while Snape and the prisoners gaped at her like she'd just turned into a giant python.

Taking a breath, she focused hard and clasped her hands together demurely.

"Sheriff Arpaio runs Maricopa County Jail, a slightly controversial desert facility in the lovely climate of central Arizona. Inmates live in tents and _everything_ is a privilege - from cots to clothing, to bathrooms to food. Prisoners _earn_ privileges by behaving themselves. Your basic B.F. Skinner approach to behavior modification."

"Right you are," Virgil said proudly. "Perhaps you should consider a career in criminal justice, ma'am."

"We're fine," Snape said tersely.

Smiling proudly, she nodded. Snape yanked her back to her seat and handcuffed their wrists together.

"And, of course, the beloved Alcatraz. Like Alcatraz, we chose this island because of its God-given barrier. If someone foolishly tries to escape, they can swim, but they'll inevitably freeze."

"Isn't that sweet." Snape frowned.

"It's a win-win situation. Justice is served; and we don't have to worry about skyrocketing disposal costs, as we would with a routine execution. That's what our shareholders like to hear."

"Maybe we should invest, Severus," she whispered. "It sounds like they run a tight ship around here. Are they traded on the London board?"

He could only shake his head. "You know, my world has turned into some bizarre sort of _unreality_ since I met you," Severus muttered. "Like a surreal painting. Or a mobile. Yes, something you just can't control; or get a grip on."

She stifled more laughter and pressed his hand.

"And, saving the best for last: we've looked to the patriarch of all penal patriarchs, Dante Alighieri, for the core of our identity. Dante is truly the fountain from which the waters of Azkaban have sprung. Or, perhaps I should say, the furnace from which the fires of Azkaban have burned." Virgil smiled at his own poetry.

"_The Inferno._ That's my favorite," Amelia gushed. "My father made me read it four times."

"Yes, ma'am. Do you remember how many levels the Inferno had?"

"Nine." She beamed with pride.

"Amelia, for God's sake," Snape said under his breath. "Nobody likes a know-it-all."

"I'm sorry, Severus, this is just so exciting." She looked back at Virgil.

"Yes, _Miss Granger_," Snape drawled.

"That's right, Mrs. Snape." Virgil smiled. "Nine levels. Of course there were sublevels - but nine basic levels. And guess what? Azkaban has _nine_ wards."

"Oh my God," Amelia gushed. "I don't believe this. It's like…the best thing in the world."

"Does Azkaban have any pubs?" Snape whispered and she laughed softly and kissed his cheek.


	62. Book 2 Chapter 37

Book 2 Chapter 37

_Lasciate ogni speranza, o voi ch'entrate_.

Somehow, that just took the fun out of everything. Those words, carved in imposing Roman typeface, rose and fell over the main archway into the prison.

Every prisoner who entered had to read them. Every warden, every guard…every day.

"It's the same phrase Dante used," she said haltingly. "Wasn't it, Abandon hope all ye who enter here?'"

"This is out of control," Snape said bitterly.

Her eyes widening in fear, Amelia looked down and said nothing. He was right. It was out of control. It was a nightmare.

Glimpsing her pained expression, he bent down to be closer to her.

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "I'm sorry you have to go through this. This should be a wonderful time for us. The first year of our marriage; well, I suppose it's the second, because I was in a coma most of the first and you were raving…but you know what I mean."

"Don't worry. It's all my fault anyway," she said softly. "I just sometimes wonder…if I'll wind up here, sooner or later."

"What the hell…sorry, I mean…_what in the world_…are you talking about?"

"After I die."

He paused. The wind was whipping around the mammoth stone fortress and rain had started to fall, or rather, pelt the courtyard. They'd found themselves inside the central courtyard around which the prison loomed. It almost seemed to leer at them. Smiling and waiting. Moist, black stone met moist black stone. No color anywhere.

"This place is getting to you already, Amelia," he said softly. "You have to resist it. Do it for Severus."

He was right, as usual. Memories had begun to creep into her mind. Echoes. Visions of her mother, sitting, getting worse every day. The words "murderer, abomination, suicide." The tragic bleeding trees Dante described as the eternal punishment for those who took their own lives.

"Severus, do they have the trees here," she whispered, clenching his hand tightly.

He looked at her in question.

"Dante's suicide trees that drip blood?" Her voice was a dull croak and tears began to sting her eyes.

"There are no bleeding trees here," he said firmly. "It's not even a crime, Amelia."

"I'd be in that forest; my mother would be in the forest…you'd be in the forest…"

"No." He knelt down and clenched her hands tightly. "This is Azkaban, Amelia, not hell, though it comes close."

She squeezed her eyes shut but the tears still sprang forth. He lit a cigarette and steered her to a bench.

"Dante wrote a poem, my dear. Mostly to have the satisfaction of putting his adversaries in the various levels. It's nothing but a sad poem. Fiction."

She swallowed the dry sand she seemed to feel in her throat and the tears began to stream down. He lifted her hood over her head and smoothed the wet hair out of her face.

"Dante was a poet, not a prophet. He certainly wasn't a disciple – and his Inferno is not gospel."

"But don't you think he was divinely inspired?"

"Oh, please. Hell sells - then as now. He just wanted to get rich and needle his enemies. When you think of it, he'd probably go straight to the bottom for judging."

Laughing softly through her tears, she had to nod. He was so wonderfully practical, she could just listen to him forever.

"Amelia, you're not on your way to any inferno. Nobody is."

She looked down and nodded. It was hard to have a fanatical father. She wondered what it would be like to have a calm, even-tempered father, who actually cared about her.

"Do they go to hell, Severus. I mean, the prisoners?" she whispered fearfully.

He sighed. "They're forgiven before they step foot in here - long before we forgive them, or our medieval penal system says they've repaid whatever debt they owe. As if they could repay. As if anyone could repay anything…"

His voice died and there was only the sound of the rain on the cobblestones. He glanced at her hand, which hung limply in the handcuff. Taking it up, he kissed her fingers.

"See, you let go of my hand and the thoughts came," he said softly. "Don't let go, Amelia. We have to find Lucius. We have to get to the bottom of this, for Severus' sake if no one else's."


	63. Book 2 Chapter 38

Book 2: Chapter 38

"I'm sorry, sir, there doesn't seem to be a Lucius Malfoy on our manifest." Virgil chewed nervously on his quill and shook his head in frustration.

"What?" Snape exclaimed. "We come all this way on that godforsaken boat and listen to the worst public relations propaganda in the history of the world…only to find that Malfoy's missing through a bureaucratic slip?"

Virgil sighed. "These things happen in any operation, sir. We're not perfect. It's the computers. They're a nightmare, but the ministry insists that we _modernize_."

"Yes, yes, it's always the computers."

"Don't lose hope, sir. I believe I've seen him. No mistaking that hair. Why don't we have a look around."

"A look around? I don't want to look around."

"She does," Virgil attempted, with a nod toward Amelia. "It's fascinating here, ma'am. I'd love you to see the wards. Shall I escort you? We're sure to find him that way."

Amelia took a deep breath. Somehow, the proposition didn't sound as good as it had earlier. Oblivious, Virgil smiled warmly while Severus sighed and lit his dozenth cigarette.

"Oh, it'll be fun, sir," Virgil winked. "Come on, now. It's Saturday. What else have you got to do?"

---

"I just want to see Malfoy," Snape complained in a low voice, as they trudged along the damp, slimy planks of the prison's drawbridge. "I don't want a tour. I don't want to see the levels. I just want to meet with Lucius and get the hell out of here."

Amelia clenched his hand tightly. She wasn't as eager as she'd been in the orientation, but something inside her told her to cooperate with Virgil.

"Just go along with him, dear," she whispered. "If you get impatient, God knows what will happen."

He nodded, grudgingly, and clenched her hand in return.

They walked back into the gray courtyard, which Amelia now noticed was shaped in a circular fashion. Virgil gathered his capes about himself and held up a wand.

A moment later, nine wooden doors appeared, evenly spaced around the wall.

Virgil nodded toward the second one to the left of the main entrance of the courtyard, and removed a heavy key from his cloak.

"We'll start here," he said. "Ward Two. I'm certain Mr. Malfoy's not on the first ward. It's only for misdemeanors. I know he committed a more serious crime. Most Deatheaters have."

Snape cleared his throat uncomfortably and began to follow him. Virgil hurried ahead.

"Allow me to lead, sir," he said to Snape. "There are…shall we say, rehabilitation exercises going on, which may be best left unseen."

Snape frowned but nodded grimly. Amelia looked down, her heart becoming heavier with each step.

The door to the second ward creaked and groaned on its hinges as it opened, and they stared into dark nothingness. Just blackness and steps - leading down, down, down.

"Remember, do not separate for any reason, and stay with me," Virgil warned. "You may have thoughts – or visions - under the influence of what you see here. Memories, or even guilt feelings. They are only visions. Do not, under any circumstances, yield to them."

Amelia and Severus nodded, almost like children, standing together with hands clenched in a death grip.

Snape and Virgil held out their wands to light the way. The walls, as they'd expected, were damp and gray and stone. Down and down and down they went, and as they came closer to the ward itself, Amelia and Severus could hear cries and moans. Hopelessness and sorrow they'd never heard before.

At last, they arrived at a large, important looking desk, where a huge, important looking man was sitting. Papers were stacked on either side of him – high into the air. Other papers fluttered everywhere around him. A gavel lay to his right.

"Hello, Commissioner Minos," Virgil greeted. "We have two visitors joining us today. They're looking for Lucius Malfoy. Remember, we had that paperwork problem with him?"

Commissioner Minos nodded tiredly. "I'm sorry, Virgil. Yes, I know he's about somewhere. Do your best. Here are your passes."

He handed the three of them black cards. When Amelia took hers, she looked up at Minos and smiled politely. Not a man, not a giant, he towered over her, his black capes flowing about him and his eyes full of blackness.

Virgil offered a thin smile. "Commissioner Minos reviews the verdicts and decides which ward is most appropriate for each prisoner. Most placements are fairly straight forward, but in some cases, options must be weighed."

"I haven't seen one of your kind in years," Minos said thoughtfully, looking straight at, or into, Amelia.

"I'm…not a convict," she said in confusion. "I'm just looking for information."

"We're all looking for information," Minos replied darkly, his eyes burning into hers.

Instinctively, Snape stepped in front of her. "She's done nothing. We're here to visit Lucius Malfoy. We don't need intimidation or insults from you."

Minos laughed dryly. "Ah, a marriage bond. How fascinating."

"How did you know?" Amelia asked timidly.

Minos chuckled again. "Only under the marriage bond could someone dare to make such an impudent comment to me, madam."

Amelia and Severus looked at each other, but said nothing.

"And, you, professor; we know all about you here," Minos said calmly, looking Snape's way. "How interesting it was that you avoided our hospitality."

"He did nothing to warrant coming here," Amelia spat back. "Let us pass. We don't need your games. We've done nothing, but we're in danger. We want to find Mr. Malfoy."

Virgil sighed and looked down. Minos studied her carefully.

"Hmm. Yes, well, Mrs. Snape, please come see me after you talk with Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps I can answer a few questions he cannot."

"Yes, we'll make a point of it," Snape said bitterly.

Minos sat back. "Go. I've spent enough time with you two. Pass through if you must; but remember, be careful whom you trust here…even each other."

Severus took her arm and began to leave.

"And, professor, we have our eye on you. One more slip, and perhaps you can join us for awhile." Minos smiled smugly.

---

When they'd turned a corner and walked down a few more flights, they came to… Kansas.

Kansas? Amelia stared numbly. Green clouds, black clouds, dust everywhere, the horrible, freight-train sounds; shrapnel flying in every direction.

People and animals and houses were flying in the air. Screams. Tornadoes roared near and far, sickening in their evil, twisting madness.

Hay and dirt slapped her in the face, and she had to cover her eyes to avoid hurting them. But where was her mother? Where was her mother? She had to get home to find her…

"Severus," she called, thanking God for the memory, and the handcuffs. "Severus, let's go."

There were no tornadoes where Snape was. Only high winds. Freezing winds. Winds that could kill a person if left alone too long.

Trees swayed and bent under the velocity. Moans and laughter and screams could be heard from the darkness. One could die here. One could die and freeze if strung up to a tree. Werewolves could attack. It was so cold.

Something jerked his hand and clamped around it. Was it James, tying him up? Was it Sirius?

"Severus…" The voice penetrated his mind and a pair of the most radiant blue eyes he'd ever seen appeared in front of him.

"Let's go." The beautiful voice urged him.

Suddenly, Snape was back in the ward. Amelia was beside him, tired and pale.

"He's not here," Virgil said quietly. "I had a good look around. Are you all right?"

"For God's sake," Snape yelled through the winds. "Let's get out of here."


	64. Book 2 Chapter 39

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 39

"I just know I'm going to wind up being one of those trees," Amelia lamented, as they trudged around the courtyard to face the seventh door, still unable to find Lucius.

"I'm going to be one of them if you don't stop brooding," he remarked. "Amelia, you're not going to be a tree. Just listen to me, for once. Please."

They'd just come out of the sixth ward, a particularly interesting place which was reserved for wizards who had taken advantage of their fellow wizards through extortion or usury. Their punishment was printing and binding bills for Gringotts, and never having a single one to their name.

"An efficient way to conduct community outreach while implementing an effective punishment," Virgil said proudly.

"Virgil, have you any idea where Malfoy would be?" Snape asked. "This tour is beginning to wear on my wife. She's obsessed with death and convinced she's going to hell, anyway; this isn't helping."

"We're nearly through, sir," Virgil said. "I think this next ward would house Mr. Malfoy if any would. It's for the violent. We must be very careful. Keep your hands joined firmly and do not go near any of the inmates, no matter how pathetically they may lament."

He pointed his wand to the seventh door, and it swung open.

--

"This is our seventh ward," Virgil announced, throwing open the doors to reveal a room made completely of mirrors. "One of our saddest and the last one I am able to allow you in."

Amelia peered inside and Snape groaned and squinted in the glare.

"For those who have done violence. Violence to their fellow wizards or violence to magic, in general. We borrowed a little from Dickens for this ward."

"How so?" Amelia asked, trying to adjust her eyes to the painful glare.

"Like Dickens' Jacob Marley, these inmates are tormented by having to watch their degrading acts of violence, mirrored again and again, without any power to change them."

"How hideous," Snape muttered. Amelia held her breath because the area reeked so bitterly.

"What's violence to magic mean?" Amelia asked thoughtfully.

"Desecration, basically," Virgil answered plainly. "Those who've desecrated magic; or pretended to create magic while actually polluting it. They're punished by having to review their own excrement, which, in life, they called magic."

Amelia clenched Severus' hand tightly and looked on.

"Take this witch here." Virgil pointed to a thin, sharp looking woman with reddish hair, thin lips and cold eyes.

"A gifted writer, she started out with good intentions of writing an honest account of our magical world. Sadly, she was swept away with pride, as so many are, and tore her own story apart, in the name of God knows what."

"What do you mean?" Amelia asked.

"Manipulating the emotions of her readers through gratuitous cruelty to her wizards, for one thing. Building the plot with sympathetic wizards her readers came to love – only to kill them or degrade them in senseless, bizarre plot twists meant solely to keep the weak suspense alive. All working to betray not only the character, but the reader."

"But they're just fictional wizards," Snape complained. "Really, this is just silly."

"They're more than fictional to many lonely people of our world, sir," Virgil said earnestly. "Gratuitous killing or defaming of any wizard, even fictional, is not to be taken lightly. It's all violence in the end."

"I suppose that makes a certain amount of sense," Amelia mused.

"My God, that one looks just like me," whispered Snape, pointing to a far corner of the room.

Amelia's eyes widened as she nodded. "He certainly does. You know…if he wore a black wig and black robes."

"He's arrived recently, sir, from your own country," said Virgil. "A gifted wizard, who once gave meaningful, dramatic performances that enhanced the magic of theatre. Tragically, he sold his soul, as many do – choosing lurid, exploitation films thinly disguised as _avant- garde_."

"What's the poor man saying?" Amelia whispered. "Kiss my fine, white…'"

"Don't listen," Snape told her hastily. "It's too ugly."

Virgil nodded. "A liar, who once promoted beauty like _The Catcher in the Rye_, only to become one of the imposters the novel decries. Who created magic, in himself, only to defile it, and fling it in the faces of all who loved him – like one might fling a ball of mud."

"How sad," Amelia said, offering the prisoner a weak smile. "How truly sad. I'll light a candle for him."

"You do that, ma'am. He needs all of our prayers now."

"Good God, he looks too much like me," Snape remarked. "Let's go."

Amelia, keeping hold of Snape's hand, bent down to the stranger's level, just for a moment.

"Remember who you are," she whispered, and smiled warmly.

The stranger smiled sadly. "By the way, ma'am, he's in the cafeteria."

"Who?" she asked.

"The man you're looking for. There's no mistaking that hair. At least I don't have that hair."

Amelia smiled and nodded. "That's true. Thank you, sir."


	65. Book 2 Chapter 40

_Authors Note: I've just realized that fanfiction-dot-net is having some serious problems. Particularly the fact that any messaging using email is dead. If you have tried to send me a message in April, I probably didn't get it, and none of mine are going through either. _

_Since I've noticed the support page no longer exists, and there is no way of contacting fanfiction-dot-net about problems, I'm a little concerned about it's stability...therefor, I'm going to be mirroring this story on _www-dot-harrypotterfanfiction-dot-com_ and _www-dot-fictionalley-dot-org_. I'll post a chapter or two a week and catch those sites up with this one.  
_

_Adele_

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 40

"Well, that was depressing," Amelia said glumly, as they closed the doors to the ward and stood back in the courtyard and its unrelenting rain.

Snape looked at her. Virgil did, too.

She blushed. "I'm sorry. That was stupid."

Virgil sighed. "With any luck, Malfoy is in the cafeteria, like the actor said. I'm so sorry about this confusion. Perhaps a bite to eat would help us all."

Snape's forehead creased. "What do you serve there?"

Amelia smiled. "I have to admit, I'm starved. I've been so hungry lately. I can't imagine why…"

She glanced innocently up to Severus, who refused to look her way and merely stared off at the sky.

Virgil smiled. "Well, it's not on the official schedule, but since you've been such enthusiastic guests, I suppose we can go. We are well reputed for our fare."

"Second only to the Savoy," Snape said bitingly.

Virgil nodded and tugged at an iron handle just to the side of his feet. To their surprise, a large grate appeared and groaned open to reveal another dark, slimy set of stairs going down into oblivion.

On they trudged - down, down, down. When they turned a corner, he threw open a set of double doors, to reveal a glaringly bright room full of long tables.

"Today: Macaroni. Tomorrow: Tuna Casserole," an overhead sign practically screamed.

"I'd never thought of Azkaban having a cafeteria," Amelia mused as they made their way through the lines of prisoners toward the front.

"Everyone has to eat, ma'am," Virgil replied. "We can't punish, or suffer, on empty stomachs."

"Seems sensible to me," Snape replied, smiling tightly.

"Why, there he is…" Virgil remarked, spotting long, blonde hair near the front of the long line. "I'll be back in an hour. Exactly an hour. Use your time wisely."

--

"I think the food is the worst part of this place," said Lucius Malfoy, as the three of them came to the steam tables and faced the mountains of macaroni.

Introductions had been made, handshakes and congratulations appropriately completed – and they were waiting to be served.

Amelia shrugged. "I just love macaroni. The hospital used to serve it, but on Tuesdays instead of Saturdays." She scooped four heaping mounds onto her plate and squirted a bit of catsup to one side.

Severus and Lucius paled a bit, looked at each other, and then at her, and then away.

"How are you, Severus?" Lucius asked, as they sat down at one of the long, steel tables.

Snape shrugged. "All right. You know, except for being married and strapped with a child and all of that."

Amelia frowned.

Lucius nodded. "Yes, well, join the club. No offense, Mrs. Snape."

"None taken," she replied, a reluctant pang of sympathy going out to Narcissa.

"What brings you out to enjoy our five-star hospitality?" Lucius asked tiredly.

"Your wife, actually," Snape replied.

"Ah, beloved Narcissa. How is she? She never comes to see me."

"She's been a bit busy with Draco lately," Amelia said unevenly.

Lucius nodded. "Busy, busy. She's always busy. That was one of our stickiest marital issues. Probably drove me to the Deatheaters. It's all her fault, really. She should be here. Not me."

Amelia's eyes rolled as she slathered butter on her roll.

"How is Draco?" he added. "He hasn't written."

"Well, besides trying to poison us all and frame my wife for it, he's doing well," Snape answered. "Taking things a bit slowly." He pressed Amelia's hand, and she smiled in delight.

"What do you mean?" Lucius asked indignantly. "He should be working hard. Beat him if he doesn't. I'm paying good money for that school, and it's not getting any cheaper."

Severus gritted his teeth. "That's awfully _cold-blooded_, Lucius." He smiled briefly at Amelia, who began to shake with bottled up laughter.

"I love you," she mouthed the words as Lucius took a distasteful nibble of his entree.

Lucius put down his fork. "He needs a real mother. Narcissa's so caught up in all of that social nonsense, she neglects Draco as horribly as she does me."

"What _social nonsense_?" Snape asked.

Lucius sighed. "I'll swear an oath, Severus, we get more like the United Way every year. Balls, fund-raisers, cotillions… once the wives worm their way in, everything goes to hell."

Amelia frowned mildly. "It's only fitting that you give something back to the community, after all the killing and torturing you do. Perhaps a donation to the _Humane Society_ would be appropriate." She winked at Severus and took a heaping forkful of his macaroni, having finished her own.

"Do you know those harpies have established a _scholarship_ fund?" Lucius asked in utter frustration. "And an orphan fund' for children whose parents are martyred in the line of duty? Every time I turn around I'm writing a check to something new. And Narcissa is chairwoman of it all."

Snape shook his head. "Well, perhaps it gets her out of her shell."

Amelia started laughing again, but this time truly choked on the roll and had to stand up. Snape stood up next to her and slapped her back.

"Get hold of yourself," he whispered.

"How can I, when you joke like that?" she whispered back, bursting into more laughter. She began to choke again and he slapped her back again, but this time with the wrong hand. Their grip was broken.

Suddenly, everything went gray. Everything began to spin. Strange, figures without form began to swirl about him, and terrible moans and screams were coming from all angles.

Amelia was gone. Lucius was a shadow. The walls began to drip with blood. A stiff, freezing wind began to tear through the chamber and swirl around him.

There was the tree. The tree of death.

A rope was around his waist; and another around his feet. Suddenly, he felt himself falling to the ground. Falling and dragging as the rope went taut. His hand began to hurt. Why would his hand hurt?

"Severus…" came a beautiful voice. Her hand was around his and gripping it; crushing it.

On the floor of the cafeteria, he could only stare up into the shrieking fluorescent lights.

"We…let go," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Tears fell onto his hand and she kissed it again and again.

Blinking, he began to feel painful throbbing on the back of his head, where it had cracked against the concrete.

Lucius nodded bitterly, staring off into space - so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed Snape collapse.

"You left in the nick of time, Severus. While we men are out there, in the trenches, doing serious battle to rule the magical world…they're sitting over their tea, scheming up the next charity ball. It's maddening."

"Hmm. Sounds horrid." Snape climbed back into his seat, rubbing his head.

"Yes, well, enough about me. I suppose I should ask why you came here?" Lucius said, a bit more pointedly.

Snape took a breath. "We need information."

"I-I can't give it to you, Severus." His lips tightened.

"Someone's stalking us. First, the poisonings; then, other things, meant to intimidate us. One vision was so disturbing that it nearly caused the ruin of us both."

Lucius nodded, his face oddly neutral. Snape's eyes deepened in urgency.

"Draco was a mere pawn in this. I know it as well as you. Narcissa said you'd know something more."

"Narcissa would say anything to implicate me."

"A bit of versiterum slipped into her tea."

"You defected, Severus. I can't tell you anything."

"Why not? I don't see your master trying to help you escape this island. What allegiance do you owe him now?"

Lucius looked away bitterly.

Amelia leaned toward him. "Please, Mr. Malfoy. We have a son now. He's a beautiful, bright, wonderful baby. We had a vision that nearly had the both of us committing suicide."

"If we die, Potter will raise him," Snape added. "You know I can't have that, Lucius. I'd never rest in peace. Haven't I suffered enough in life? Would you want me to suffer in death?"

Lucius' eyes sharpened. "Harry Potter is his godfather?"

Snape nodded toward Amelia. "It was her idea."

"By the way, you're invited to the christening, if you can arrange leave," Amelia attempted weakly.

Lucius smiled. "Thank you, Amelia. I'll have to check my calendar."

Snape rubbed his eyes. "Lucius, what if Potter was Draco's godfather? For God's sake, have a little mercy."

Pausing thoughtfully, Lucius nodded. "Oh what the hell. I like you, Amelia. I'd hate to see you in here for the rest of your life."

"Then, tell us what you know," Snape pleaded. "I know Draco didn't do this all himself."

Lucius leaned forward. "Of course he didn't. He's thick as a plank. Managed to botch the whole thing, anyway. Damn Minerva and her feline shtick. You'd have thought my stupid son would have seen right through that nonsense. She did reverse the spell, didn't she?"

"Then who, Lucius?" Snape urged him, ignoring the question. "Who did this? And why?"

"We only get our information in pieces, these days. You know, so nobody knows everything about anything. I know her father was in our American branch. Rather high up, if I recall. I heard from him, over a year ago. My orders were to begin to poison Hogwarts, using my son as the conduit - and implicating Amelia. The poison was contained in a package, sent to us."

Amelia looked down, feeling a sharp stab of pain.

"What the end was, or the goal…was never revealed to me."

Lucius saw the pain in her eyes and pressed her hand. "It's not that he hates you, Amelia. He's afraid of you. Or our leader is afraid."

"But why?" she demanded. "I was good. I always tried to be so good. My mother and I both did. Nothing could please him. Nothing."

"He never said, outright, but he did say something about chaos being connected to you. Tornadoes. Pandemonium. Visions. Odd words, like that."

"When did you hear from him, Lucius?" Severus whispered.

"Oh, my. September. Early September, of last year."

Amelia's mouth fell open. "Then…it had nothing to do with Draco's being jealous or possessive of my husband."

Lucius nodded. "I'm sorry, ma'am."

Severus leaned forward. "Where is he?"

"America, I assume. At least, that's where all my letters came from. Kansas."

Snape nodded grimly. "I think I know where to start."


	66. Book 2 Chapter 41

Note: Fanfiction email is not working right now. I'm not getting emails and my emails aren't going through. Just know, I appreciate the reviews and thank you very much for reading. I'll write back as soon as things are straightened out. Have a Snapish day!

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 41

Forty potions students sat, numb in their chairs - staring, gaping, frozen in stupefaction.

Not a sound could be heard, but a few echoes in the hall outside. A mouse could have scurried by and sounded like an elephant trampling.

"Mr. Longbottom, your paper wasn't bad," Snape said dryly, patting Neville soundly the back with his free hand. (The other held Severus Jr., who just smiled and giggled).

"You've been working hard, and your answer showed so much thought, so much analysis. I'm proud."

Neville, pale as parchment, was struck utterly speechless. About 15 Slytherin jaws dropped to the floor. Crabb and Goyle were so pale and sick they were about to fall out of their chairs.

"Mr. Crabb, Mr. Goyle, you should take a lesson from Mr. Longbottom when doing your calculations."

They just stared blankly into the bizarre abyss that had become the potions classroom.

Sweeping over to Hermoine, Snape smiled, leaned against her desk and held up a paper. The baby's forehead creased in a bit of agitation when he saw her, and he instinctively wrapped his arms about Snape's neck.

"Miss Granger, as much as I hate to say it because you're a Gryffindor, your essay was genius."

She stared, unblinking. Unspeaking. Unaware of what planet this was.

"Class, I'm going to post Miss Granger's analysis of molds and their effects on organic potions. I want you to all look at it closely, as an example."

Someone began to cry.

Hermoine blushed to her fingernails and couldn't help breaking into delighted squeals of pride. Harry and Ron leaned in toward each other.

"He's finally lost it," Ron whispered desperately. "I knew he'd crack one of these days. I knew it."

"What do you mean?" Harry whispered.

"First, marrying that bizarre Miss Garrett. Then, a baby? My God, I know she's pretty, but I can see her driving anyone to the brink…"

Harry crossed his arms, lost in thought.

"This isn't right," he said conclusively. "The natural order has been disrupted. It's a sign - a sign of the end, Ron. Armageddon is coming. We need to go to church, Ron."

"Oh please," Ron snapped. "You're just upset because he didn't flatter _you._ Do you _ever_ get enough flattery? Enough accolade? Aren't _you_ always the center of…"

Hermoine whipped around to them, her eyes snapping with anger. "Stop it, both of you. You're both just green with envy because he finally recognized my work."

Harry sneered and looked away. Ron just frowned.

Snape looked seriously at Hermoine. She backed up just a bit. It was rather frightening, when one really thought about it.

"Miss Granger, you must consider a career in potions."

Hermoine's mouth dropped open, along with even more Slytherin mouths. Ron paused, studying her. Harry bit his lip.

Suddenly, she just slumped, tumbling off her chair and onto the floor – completely unconscious.

In a flash, Ron and Harry were on the floor, slapping her cheeks and calling her name.

Snape smiled placidly. "Well, class. I believe that will be all for today. It's such a beautiful afternoon. Enjoy it. No assignments tonight. I've worked you hard enough. Go and take a little _you-_time."

There was no clapping. No cheering. No yelling. The students stared at him, then at one another. Someone else began to cry.

"I mean it," Snape insisted. "Go. Enjoy this beautiful day."

As if to make their escape before some kind of spell was lifted, or he came to his senses, or his doppelganger stepped through a mirror and began to yell – the students gathered their things and hurried out, without so much as a whisper.

All but Harry, Hermoine and Ron. Snape hurried to their sides and knelt down with them.

"Professor, for God's sake, if you're going to be nice, you need to do it in small steps, over a period of years," Ron exclaimed. "We can only take so much."

"She's out cold," Harry remarked. "Probably has a concussion. Well, on second thought, she's probably all right. Her skull's rather thick."

Snape's eyes rolled. Somehow, it was a welcome relief.

"I can't believe you don't recognize a simple polyjuice potion when you see one. I'm Professor McGonigall."

Ron's eyes were huge, blue moons. Harry burst into guffawing gales of laughter.

"Be quiet," she hissed. "They're away, trying to find information about the poisonings. I'm covering for him. I couldn't resist…well, experimenting with his personality just a bit."

"Why did you use polyjuice potion?" Harry needled. "Doesn't Professor Dumbledore approve of the trip? Are they going _behind his back_?"

"Mr. Potter, I can do a very good imitation of Professor Snape, if I'm cornered," she threatened.

Regaining some semblance of consciousness, Hermoine began to blink and smiled brilliantly at Snape.

"You…really think I'm a prodigy, professor?" she whispered weakly. "The greatest student Hogwarts ever had? A potions genius?"

"…second only to Mozart," Minerva answered, giving Harry and Ron death glances as she began to see their smiles broaden, and their shoulder shake.

Harry and Ron had to bite on their hands to keep from exploding into uncontrolled laughter.

Hermoine just laid back and smiled up at Snape, as if she'd died and was looking into the face of St. Peter.


	67. Book 2 Chapter 42

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 42

"I hope you found what you were looking for," Virgil said quietly, as they stood just outside the gates of Azkaban. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Snape. Oh yes, you too, professor."

"Thank you for everything." Amelia smiled warmly and shook his hand. It felt cold to the touch and a bit clammy, but she shrugged it off. Snape nodded formally.

"Perhaps we'll see you again one day, sir," Virgil said knowingly, unable to help himself. "We got too close for comfort a few years ago, didn't we?"

"I think I hear the boat," Snape said tersely. "Thank you for the unforgettable tour and delectable meal."

"You are quite welcome. Please come again."

They turned to look toward the dock when Virgil tapped Snape on the shoulder.

"You aren't here, Severus," he said in a low voice. "Remember that. You aren't here. Others are. That means something."

Snape swallowed with difficulty and adjusted his collar. Then, as if a thought suddenly occurred to him, he leaned forward so only Virgil could hear.

"Virgil, would you please tell my wife something. Something you know and I know, but she just doesn't to know. About the trees…"

Virgil nodded.

"Mrs. Snape," he began.

"Yes?" she replied, a bit nervously.

"Your husband is right, you know. Truly. There are no trees here. There is no ward for attempted suicide."

She just stopped and just stared into Virgil's black, black eyes. They were somewhat hypnotic, and for a moment, she saw reflections of her mother, her father, herself, of the explosion…of all the guilt and shame of the many long years.

"If Azkaban has no ward for it, I can't imagine anyone else having one," Snape said quietly, slipping his arm around her waist. Virgil nodded and smiled.

Tears stung her eyes, and she looked down, clasping his hand tightly. Lord, she was tired. And she missed the baby like she'd never missed anything in her life. They turned to head toward the dock, but then she turned back.

"Would you possibly do me a favor?" she asked.

He nodded. "I'll try."

"Have mercy on the actor. I don't get the sense that he's a lost cause, just yet. Perhaps there's hope."

Virgil smiled. "You are very forgiving, ma'am."

"Yes, it's nauseating," Snape remarked. "She forgives everyone…even me."

"Everyone but herself," Virgil said evenly.

Amelia's blood turned cold. Snape moved closer to her.

"You must change that, Amelia. If you don't, you may not be an official resident here, but you'll be here in spirit, notwithstanding."

"I don't know how," she whispered. "Her death…it was my fault."

"It wasn't, Amelia," Snape said softly, turning toward Virgil. "I tell her and tell her…it doesn't seem to matter."

Virgil smiled. "She must be able to tell herself, Severus. Perhaps at the end of this journey, you'll think about it differently, Mrs. Snape. Your husband is to be commended for taking you along this road. It's not a safe one. Not many husbands would make the journey."

"My husband is no ordinary man," she replied softly.

"Very true. Goodbye and good luck. Keep your hands clasped together until the boat leaves the dock, and it's probably best not to look back."

"We saw no Dementors while we were here," Snape thought aloud.

Virgil smiled oddly. "They were all around you both, sir. You and your wife have a bond more powerful than you know. Let's proceed, shall we…"

At the dock, which was cloaked in mist, a looming, dark figure was standing and waiting and smiling.

Minos.

Snape instinctively backed away and put his arm around Amelia.

"I said I wanted to see you before you left," Minos said evenly. "Haste makes waste, Severus."

"What do you want?" Snape said icily.

"Only to give you both a bit of information I believe you're seeking. I wouldn't hear of your leaving without it."

Snape's scowl was deep and hateful. "My wife has been to hell and back this past year. I won't allow you to say anything that could finish her."

Minos actually smiled. "_Finish her_? That's easier said than done, professor. Mrs. Snape, I like you, and that is why I'm going to tell you…certain things."

Amelia looked into those dark, hollow, frightening eyes and slowly began to feel herself falling, as if an elevator had dropped and she was inside. Plunging down, down, down. Was there no bottom? The feeling in her stomach said no. Never.

Snape saw what she was feeling. The free fall; the bottomless abyss; the blackness.

"You can tell me, Minos," Snape said curtly. "I will decide what information she can endure."

Minos bowed. "As you wish. Are you willing to let go of her hand and come to me?"

Snape glanced worriedly at their hands. Her beautiful, delicate fingers and pretty nails…clinging to his calloused, burned, ugly excuse for a hand.

Let go? How could he let go? It could kill him. Not her, no doubt, but him.

But really, so what? Wouldn't she be better off without him? Wouldn't the baby be happier? Wouldn't everyone be better off? Certainly the school; certainly the students…

"I will let go," he stated.

Amelia began to weep.

"Please don't, Severus," she begged. "You're already thinking along dark lines. I can hear your thoughts. I can hear them in my mind."

"I won't have you strapped with more horrible news," he said angrily. "I won't have another bomb go off in your life. I'll let go."

Minos scowled impatiently at both of them.

"Oh, for God's sake, she's a chaos witch," Minos said shortly. "There. Nobody has to let go of anything."

Snape's face contorted with anger and he turned toward Minos.

"Your duty isn't to torment the innocent," he said in barely-controlled rage. "The ministry and the Order of the Phoenix will hear about this – from me and from Professor Dumbledore, I assure you."

"Enough, Severus," Minos roared. "I'm not telling her anything she doesn't already know."

"What do you mean?" she gasped.

"Think about it. What do you _know,_ Amelia?" Minos asked. "What do you _know_ about yourself?"

"Well, I was born in Topeka…"

He sighed impatiently. "Magically speaking."

"Oh, sorry. Not much, except that I foul up every spell I attempt; and seem to ricochet a lot of magic that's directed toward me."

"Very good. You are intelligent. They usually are." Minos smiled approvingly. "Have a good trip home. Thank you for visiting."

Snape's forehead creased into dark lines. "Wait. We've had enough of riddles and wards and ridiculous Dante-isms. You need to explain."

"I did. She fouls up everything she touches."

"What?" she cried in protest.

"You're a chaos witch.' They're fairly rare. Most have been burned."

Exhausted with strain, Amelia burst into tears. Snape swore and reached for his wand. Minos raised a hand.

"Stop," he urged. "It's not always bad. A few haven't been burned."

"Oh my God!" she sobbed more deeply.

"Make your peace and prepare to die," Snape hissed, removing his wand and pointing it at Minos' throat.

Minos threw up his hands. "I only mean…she's dangerous…"

"Avara…"

"Don't you dare," Amelia half-yelled, half wept. "I'm not raising Severus on my own. You stay out of prison."

Reluctantly; hatefully, he lowered his wand.

Minos shrugged.

"Take it or leave it," he said. "I suppose you can't really leave it. You're a chaos witch, Mrs. Snape. You can tell by the eyes. But don't despair. You have great potential."

"What potential?" Snape demanded.

Minos once again focused on her. "My dear, your gift isn't to create magic; it is to change magic, or even deflect it," he said. "You see through masks. You use the turmoil of your magic to transform – and that has frightened wizards for centuries. You can ruin spells; or see through them; or even change them into jokes."

"That's the God's honest truth," she grumbled, though some of the anxiety was dissipating.

"Surely, you've heard of chaos witches, Severus," Minos said matter-of-factly.

Her eyes widened. "You knew?"

He shrugged. "It's just an ancient child's tale."

She began to sob again and he groaned.

Minos smiled. "It's no tale. Can you understand now why those with power fear you, Amelia?"

"Because I'm a train wreck?"

"Yes."

"Jesus." She covered her face with her hands.

"You have the potential to turn their magic back on themselves. No matter how powerful they are, your power has the last say."

"She certainly likes having the last word," Snape remarked in a low voice, nudging her playfully.

"You don't start spells, but you have the ability to finish them – in interesting twists," Minos attempted.

Severus looked up with a new expression on his face. "I never realized their potential, I never thought of it that way."

"Few do" Minos said thoughtfully. "A chaos wizard or witch is a very rare occurrence. Most never even realize what their power is, and think they merely bring strange or bad luck to those around them."

"Yes, I do," she said darkly.

"That is why they were feared," Minos said. "Perhaps it isn't so bad to be feared, Mrs. Snape. Think. Think how you can use your power for good. Hopefully, that will make all that self-hatred turn to respect."


	68. Book 2 Chapter 43

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 43

Snape and Amelia smiled tiredly, and a bit gratefully, as Minos finally disappeared into the fog.

Virgil turned back toward, shook their hands and began making his way toward the gates.

"…Do you want to see?" Snape whispered urgently, when Virgil was out of earshot. "Should we? It might be interesting to really see it."

"Oh Severus, I'm so tired. I just want to go home. Besides, I can't ever see anything."

"Please, Amelia. Let go just for an instant. Grab my hand when I begin passing out or dying."

She sighed and looked to see if anyone were spying. Then she smiled. He had helped her immensely. It would be very unfair not to grant him this wish.

"Oh, all right."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I love you, Amelia. You try to be good, but you're bad, like me."

Her forehead creased in guilt. "Well, I…"

"On three. One, two, three…"

They let go.

Hmm. Nothing much, she thought. There was the prison. There was the darkness and mist. Just Deputy Virgil, walking back. Well, maybe floating back. Had he been wearing black? Hadn't he been in uniform? She shrugged. Must be the shadows or the mist.

Glancing over Snape's way, she saw his face – tense and ashen. His eyes were rolling back in his head. His body was crumpling over in unconsciousness.

Lunging forward, she clasped his hand and wrapped herself around him.

His eyes had closed, but then, slowly, his breathing returned. A bit of warmth came back.

"Severus," she whispered. "What happened? Are you all right?"

He was sick, retching horribly, doubled over in pain.

"What is it, Severus?" she gasped. "Oh my God, what happened?"

"Didn't you see?" he asked in ragged gasps.

"Me? Of course not. See who?"

"Virgil. My God, _he's_ a Dementor."

---

"I never get to see _anything_," she sulked, as the train rambled its way back to London. "I don't want to be a chaos witch."

His eyes rolled in boredom.

"I'm so tired of missing how lovely the castle is; or all the things in the air; or what a Dementor is. It's not fair."

"Oh Amelia, for God's sake," he replied impatiently, straightening the newspaper. "You're miffed that you can't see a Dementor in its true state, or a few ridiculous candles floating in the air? You're just petulant."

"I'm not petulant."

"Yes you are. It's one of their characteristics."

"Whose characteristics?"

"Women…I mean, chaos witches." He cleared his throat.

"Once I had a teacher tell me I was day-late-and-dollar-short' Amelia." She looked down regretfully.

"Hmm. Well, you certainly wound up with a second-rate husband, so perhaps he was right."

She looked down and sighed in frustration. He stifled a smile and turned the page.

Finally, he lowered a corner. "Amelia, you have the power to enjoy Dementors, and protect me from them. You even saw that disgusting actor in a different light than we did. That's a gift, not a curse."

"Yes, but it's kind of fun to see things on the black, scary side, like you always do."

"Oh, for God's sake…"

She frowned. He kissed her cheek.

"You just love to complain. It's in your nature as a woman. Forget that chaos fable." He smiled, very pleased at his pat analysis, and opened his pocket watch.

Her forehead creased.

"That's the fourth time you've looked at your watch. Am I boring you?" she asked.

"No. I'm just…impatient, I suppose. I'd like to get back. God knows what Minerva's doing with my classes."

Something in his voice struck her as suspicious.

"May I see it?" she asked.

"No. You'll destroy it." He clicked it shut.

"Please..."

"No. You can't _see_ anything, anyway." He smiled primly and began to put it away.

She paused. He looked down.

Recklessly, she lunged for his hand, and he tried to pull back, and they fell onto the floor and tumbled over each other a couple of times, in great waves of black fabric, but she finally pinned him to the floor.

"No," he protested, laughing in spite of himself.

"What's inside?" she asked, breathless.

"Nothing. Just a picture of my one, true love, who died tragically. You know, before I met you and decided second best wasn't so bad…"

"Let me see…" She grabbed his hand and attempted to pry his fingers open.

He pointed his wand at her and burst into more laughter. "I'll do it. I'll do the Experiamus' spell right now."

"It won't work. Let me see the watch," she laughed, her hair streaming wildly across her shoulders, and her eyes snapping and crackling with fire.

"No. Experiamus!" He pointed the wand to her and there was a flash and smell of sulphur. When the smoke cleared, she just looked at him, giggled, and fell over on top of him.

"Ha-Ha. I'm immune."

He frowned and carelessly tossed the wand across the compartment.

A wicked idea formed in her head. She sat up and removed her cape.

As slowly and as seductively as she could, (although most of the time she tried to be seductive it came out wrong and made him laugh), she began to unfasten her blouse.

His eyes widened in shock. She just smiled defiantly.

"Let me see it." She attempted a husky voice, but dissolved into laughter and nearly lost her balance.

"No."

"Please. I'll unbutton the whole thing."

"Using yourself as bait twice in two days. My God, what have I married..."

"All right, I'll stop." She let go of the buttons and leaned over him like a vulture, letting the blouse fall open just enough to tempt him.

Cursing under his breath, he handed the watch to her and went to work on the buttons, himself.

She clicked it open.

Then she caught her breath.

"Oh Severus…" she whispered, her smile fading into something deeper. "Oh my God…"

The photograph was very small, but brought tears to her eyes instantly.

Severus Jr. was sleeping like an angel. And since the picture was enchanted, he also yawned, stretched, and turned to one side.

"All right. You've seen it. Give it back and undo the rest of your blouse."

The tears began to fall down her cheeks.

"It's true. I knew it. You do love him."

"Oh please. Hermoine stole my watch last week and glued it there. I'll dock her six points when we get home."

"I love you so much. You're the best father in the world." She tumbled on top of him and covered him with kisses.

"Amelia…you're forgetting the blouse…"

"And I love how you deny it, just to tease me and cover up the depth of your emotion."

He just shook his head hopelessly and laid back.

Her eyes deepened and she laid down next to him, nestling her head on his shoulder. "I've run you through the ringer and you've done nothing but help me."

He smiled wryly. "You've tossed me a few crumbs of happiness along our troubled, turbulent, wrong, stormy, cursed relationship."

"I try," she answered, smiling up to him. "I'm going to keep trying, Severus. I'm going to make you so happy. If I can just pull myself together…"

His eyes deepened. "You can't pull yourself together. You're chaos, remember?"

She sighed in regret.

"Besides, I like things well enough when they're pulled apart." His hand traveled back to the remaining buttons and she smiled warmly and slipped her arms around his neck.


	69. Book 2 Chapter 44

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 44

As they waited on the platform, Severus again looked at the clock. Seven. It would be midnight before the express roared in. Five long hours.

For a few moments, he quietly observed her, noticing the way she moved, how the breeze filtered through her hair, the sway of her body, her beautiful smile as she glanced at the pocket watch again and again.

A thought occurred to him. Something that had every so often passed through his mind, but that he'd heretofore pushed away. Perhaps from embarrassment? Or fear?

Would she leave if she knew? If she saw where he came from - his sad, pathetic excuse for a past?

"No woman with any breeding will ever come within ten feet of you," his father words echoed, clear as if he'd said them yesterday.

Now, if he took the chance, would Amelia agree with his father? That he was of the lower classes: someone to be pitied, yet kept at a polite distance.

_Amelia_? Good Lord, she wouldn't even agree to a new dress, much less worry about pedigree. Though she plagued him with annoying questions about his _feelings_ (and other more sensible topics like potions), not once had she inquired after his legacy.

Perhaps she should see Spinner's End. Possibly, she'd see something in that horror of a house that he hadn't. Perhaps it would be good to show her.

Yet, he'd hate it if she pitied him – or thought he would want her pity. Oddly, he'd always wanted to show the house to someone. The twisted, gnarled sad excuse for a home, where he grew up.

During his school days, he'd overhear friends inviting one another home for weekends and holidays. Not him. How could he invite someone to that hovel that he, himself, hated to be near? That true "screaming shack," where his father's unrelenting anger showered down like hail. Nobody would want to go there. And nobody had.

So Spinner's End had remained a secret. He'd only told her of his home in the country, making up tales of ghosts and vampires that delighted her to no end.

He had actually purchased an old manor house not far from Hogsmead. It was one of the first things he'd done years ago, after he'd saved enough money (for all of his shortcomings, Voldemort did pay well).

OnlyAlbus and Minerva knew about Spinner's End. Year after year, it remained, alone, in the back of the slum neighborhood and in the back of his mind.

---

"My dear, we have a bit of time before the express leaves. It's too cold to simply stand here."

"Please, Severus, I don't want to shop. I don't mind staying here."

"Amelia," he began softly. "There's something else we could do. Would you like to see my house? It's not far. It's the most pathetic place you'll ever see, but perhaps you'd like to go."

His tone was sad, a bit hesitant, a bit wistful. She studied his eyes and saw no levity there. Just a great weight.

"What house?" she asked curiously. "You said you had a haunted house in the country."

"I do…but this house is where…I was a boy. Not many people know about it. I don't know what to do with it. Would you…like to go and see it?"

There was so much hesitation in his voice; so much uncertainty and even embarrassment, she paused.

"Do you want me to?" she asked softly.

He looked into her eyes and finally nodded. "Yes."

---

The house, if you could call it that, was at the end of a narrow, crooked, sad little road called Spinner's End. As they walked over the cracked, uneven cobblestones and jagged bricks of the road – the neighborhood seemed to worsen with each passing house.

Cats and rats wandered here and there; dogs barked ferociously; crying and yelling echoed from windows; suspicious characters huddled in shadowed porches. Amelia had read about London slums like this – in novels like _Sherlock Holmes_ and _Oliver Twist_. Now, here were those bowels of London, alive and well. Things hadn't changed much since Dickens' time.

And the odors…

Trapped in a miasma of smoky fog that hung over the street from some belching factory, the slum seemed to be fighting for each breath. As Spinner's End was near the river, a briny scent added to the stench. Decades of mud, grime and stagnation added to the malaise.

What must it have been like to spend each day here, she wondered. Darkness, hopelessness, drudgery. A flash of Severus Jr. anywhere near this neighborhood nearly sickened her – and her heart filled with pity for her husband – who was once a child here – struggling to make sense of this nightmare.

At last, they came to the end of the circle. There, some distance from the curb, sat the house. Crooked, ramshackle, black, leaning – made out of some type of ancient plank. Windows had long been smashed; smoke had stained what wasn't already dark; and weeds grew all the way to the front door.

"You probably see a pink cottage," he joked half-heartedly.

She shook her head and felt her throat contract. "No pink cottages, I'm afraid."

There was no brightness here. Shades of gray. Shades of red. Shades of blood? Shadows of anger?

This was a tired house. An exhausted house.

"Oh Severus…" she managed. "You really grew up here?"

"_Existed_ is more the word."

She looked down and reached for his hand, knowing no words to say; no condolences to share.

"How _did_ you survive here?" she managed.

"God knows," he replied bitterly. "I don't remember much. Noise, stench, filth. Fighting."

Fighting. Yes, she was familiar with that. A sharp headache took grip of her skull like it had been caught in a vice.

Flashes of pain blinded her: a teenager cowering in a corner, bruised, and bleeding from the nose. A screaming man with black hair and a cruel gash of a mouth; and a thin, terror-numbed woman pleading and pleading and pleading.

Were they his parents or hers?

Amelia blinked and felt a few tears spring to her eyes. Snape pulled her closer and she leaned tiredly against him.

"I wish I could say that I saw beauty, somewhere, but I don't," she offered sadly. "I'm so sorry. So sorry."

He pressed his lips together and kissed the top of her head.

"I should have killed him," he remarked calmly. "I should have poisoned his tea; or his scotch, rather. I could have saved my mother."

She took his hands. "You were a child. You have no culpability in this."

"I was too afraid," he confessed. "So the anger festered, and soon I wanted to annihilate everyone with the slightest connection to the muggle world."

She said nothing. There were no words, anyway. And it felt right to listen.

He took a deep draw of his cigarette.

"You love to romanticize me, my dear, but my point in bringing you here is to show you I'm no lord of the manor. I came from a slum, Amelia. A common slum."

"I don't romanticize you, Severus. I love you because of who you are. There's no need for romanticizing."

"I'm only trying to say…there's no aristocratic pedigree; no breeding; no nobility in my family."

"What are you talking about?"

He sighed, now a bit impatient. "You know, breeding. Lords and ladies, land, titles. That kind of thing."

Tiredly, he sat down on a stable part of the porch and drew her down beside him.

"Amelia, you must have heard about our class system. The upper classes, the aristocracy, are considered…more refined; superior."

"Why?"

"Because…they go to boarding schools and parties and fox hunts and all of that. They don't have to work in factories, or live in areas like this."

"Oh," she said, the concept finally dawning on her. "Oh yes, I've read about those people in those Victorian novels."

"I'm afraid it's real. We tried to officially ban it some years ago, but it's alive and well. Unspoken, but very, very real."

She sighed and looked down.

"Don't you understand anything I'm saying?" he asked impatiently.

She shrugged. "I'm sorry, Severus, but you won't find any lords or ladies or even fox hunts in Topeka."

He paused. "I suppose you didn't grow up with all of that."

"Quite the opposite, really. In my country, we have heiresses who act like prostitutes; and struggling farmers who become respected presidents."

"That's true in England, as well, but most of the heiresses still won't truly mix with the farmers."

"That's sad," she said softly.

"That's the way it is."

"Not with me, if that's what you're worried about. I don't care what your grandfather did – or your great grandfather. I married _you_."

He looked down and clasped his hands together. "That's wonderful, Amelia, and I love you for it, but what about our son?"

Her eyes hardened. "Our children will respect their father. Have no concerns about that."

He nodded, a bit surprised at the conviction in her voice.

"I know pedigree is an issue here, and I don't mean to oversimplify the matter; but, Severus, look what you've accomplished."

"What, exactly?" he asked bitterly.

She smiled and kissed him. "Only everything. Things that will make your son incredibly proud of you."

"Mixing potions?"

"Your entire life is an accomplishment. You could have given up so many times. You could have stayed here in Spinner's End, but you were brave enough to go to Hogwarts, study hard, and somehow endure the prejudice of those boys. Would you have done all that if you were born with a silver spoon? Very doubtful."

He actually smiled and seemed to relax, just a bit.

"And, you married me, when we had no idea what I was. I had this ridiculous kind of magic; and you didn't care. Why would I care if you grew up here?"

His forehead creased, and he cupped her hands in his.

"Won't he be embarrassed, if he knows about this place? God, I never want him to see it. Ever."

"I do," she said softly.

"Why?" he grumbled.

"It will give him hope. He'll see what his father overcame…and accomplished. It will give him faith that he can accomplish his goals."

His eyes filled with emotion. "You've been preaching the same sermon since we met. Invisibility cloaks aren't the only things you see through."

Leaning closer, she kissed his cheek.

"Besides," she whispered, "pedigree has to begin somewhere. I think your family's began with you."

He paused and extinguished his cigarette. "Amelia, the only refinement I've ever had is in loving you."


	70. Book 2 Chapter 45

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 45

"What in the hell…" Snape demanded, scooping his son off of the rug and glaring at the crisp new _Gryffindor_ nightshirt he was wearing.

A veritable lava flow of invective erupted, and Amelia covered her ears and tried not to break out in gales of laughter.

"Welcome back," Harry greeted, with a smug smile. "We _Gryffindors_ have had a wonderful weekend. Potions class was probably the best ever. Yes, I'd say it definitely was."

"Really? Did Professor McGonigall let you make sugar water?" Snape retorted, trying to remove the shirt until Amelia shook her head and took the baby into her own arms.

"Better than that, sir. It was the class of a lifetime. A true epiphany for us; for Hermoine, perhaps most of all."

Snape's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Did he behave for you, Harry?" Amelia asked, kissing the baby a hundred times and squeezing him like a python.

"Oh yes, ma'am. We had a wonderful time in the _Gryffindor _tower. He seemed to perk up right away."

"You kept him in your quarters? How dare you," Snape hissed. "Minerva had strict orders to watch him and the snakes in his own chamber."

Harry shrugged. "My godson is very energetic, sir. Professor McGonigall was worn through by the first night. I had to take over."

"He _is _a bit of a handful, Severus," Amelia reminded him.

Snape sighed unhappily. "Nevertheless, he should have stayed in our chambers. He's used to them."

"We're all afraid of that part of the castle, sir. We've heard so many legends about how evil and dangerous it is. Besides, he could do with seeing a little color and light. Most humans actually respond to it."

Snape smiled acidly; murderously.

"Well, he seems like he grew a foot," Amelia remarked brightly. "Thank you so much, Harry. Once again, you came to our rescue."

Harry smiled. Snape's eyes narrowed and he turned away.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Harry asked, a bit more seriously as he began to gather up the baby's things..

Her lips tightened. "Not everything. But Mr. Malfoy was fairly helpful, as were the staff."

"Mr. Malfoy? You…you went to Azkaban?"

Amelia's mouth fell open, as she realized her slip. Snape caught his breath and closed his eyes. She knew he wanted to kill her and hoped he could restrain himself.

"Yes. It's a long story, but, we had to make the trip," she said hastily.

"Was it as horrible as they say?" Harry asked curiously.

"Why don't you see for yourself," Snape proposed. "All you'd have to do is say one of three curses I could easily dictate to you."

"You must tell me…" Harry went on, mesmerized by curiosity.

"Enough of your impudence," Snape interrupted abruptly. "Here's your Gilliweed. Go disappear somewhere." He tossed him a couple of sacks.

They began to walk down the corridor toward their chamber, Harry chivalrously offering to carry the baby's toys and Amelia's overnight case.

"Forgive me if I'm out of bounds, Mrs. Snape, but I'm fascinated by Azkaban. My own godfather had to stay there, unjustly, for twelve years."

"Unjustly…" Snape muttered. "If there were a sentence for harassing innocent students, he'd still be there now."

"It's very well thought out, actually," Amelia replied enthusiastically, giving Harry a brief overview of the philosophy and layout of the prison.

As they rounded a corner and came to the end of a long set of stairs, Harry paused.

"I'm sorry about your father, ma'am. Professor McGonigall happened to mention him. It's rough going, living with professors…I mean, parents… like him."

She looked down regretfully. "Thank you, Harry."

Snape eyed him suspiciously.

"What I'm trying to say is, you're not alone. My aunt and uncle reared me. It was wretched, most of the time."

Amelia smiled sadly and pressed his hand. Snape frowned and crossed his arms impatiently.

"My stepparents - my aunt and uncle – still hate the sight of me. They loathe anything to do with magic; and they dote on my idiotic cousin, Dudley, whose only magical talent is eating mass quantities of food."

Lowering her head in sorrow, Amelia managed to nod.

"I'm so sorry, Harry; so terribly sorry. It must have been horrible to never have known your parents and then to be placed with such abusive relatives."

Severus stiffened. "At least his father loved him. My mother was a saint, of course; but when the nuns weren't beating me, my father was – for anything less than perfection."

Amelia's eyes began to fill with tears of compassion.

Harry smiled frostily.

"Why then, you had it easy, sir. I was beaten _for_ perfection; they thought I was showing up Dudley. And _I _slept under a staircase."

Snape smiled, a degree more frostily. "Our staircase was a ruin, Amelia. I had to sleep in the cellar…with the _rats._"

Harry smiled, icily. "I wasn't allowed _pets_. But Dudley got everything he wanted."

Pausing, she studied them both. Were they even talking to her anymore?

Snape smiled, even more icily. "I had _no _siblings to usurp the attention, but I still never got any."

"I was lucky I managed to get to Hogwarts, Mrs. Snape. _My_ stepparents wouldn't hear of my going, and even tried to hide me."

"_My_ father wasn't so concerned, Amelia," Snape retorted. "He had gone by the time I started my first term at Hogwarts. He'd abandoned us."

"At least you knew _your_ father," Harry remarked. "Mine was _dead._"

"At least yours _loved_ you, which I know for a fact. My father hated us, and left us without a shilling for education. Thank God scholarships exist for truly gifted children."

"You mean _Hermoine?_" Harry quipped, smiling dangerously.

By now, Snape's eyes were slits and his voice a hiss. "Amelia, we could never have afforded Hogwarts, unlike some over-privileged students who buy their way in on inherited money."

Harry laughed dryly. "I was personally invited to Hogwarts, Mrs. Snape. Actually, I turned down several offers – but Hogwarts was British, and it had a good reputation; the potions department, notwithstanding."

Snape's eyes flared. "The potions department was and continues to be the main draw of the school, Amelia. Those who cannot grasp its concepts tend to become embittered by jealousy."

Amelia glanced nervously at them both. A duel was probably next. She had to act quickly.

"I know what we need," she said brightly, forcing a sunny smile to try and derail this war of words.

"Better expulsion rules?" Snape said irritably.

"No, dear. We need meaningful dialogue; healing; closure."

"No we don't…we really don't," Snape groaned, struggling to find the key.

"A support group," she went on recklessly. "Wouldn't that be lovely? Perhaps on Wednesdays?"

"Suits me fine," Harry answered eagerly. "I'll bring dessert."

"Damn you, Potter," Snape groaned. "Now look what you've gotten us into."

Snape finally found the right key and inserted it into the lock, but there was no need.

The door swung open on its own.


	71. Book 2 Chapter 46

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 46

"Amelia…" Snape turned back swiftly, blocking the door. "My dear, I must have dropped my pocket watch back in Potter's lair. Would you try and find it? You know how Severus loves it."

"Of course," she smiled. "Goodnight Harry and thank you."

"And, Amelia…" Snape called.

"Yes?" she replied, breathless.

"I'd love you forever and ever if you'd bring me one of those delicious sandwiches you make so well. You know, the ones with the peanut butter and jam."

"Why of course," she beamed.

Turning again, she hoisted the baby higher in her arms and hurried back down the corridor.

Once she'd disappeared, Snape studied the door and Harry eased in closer.

"Sir?" Harry asked.

"It was unlocked," Snape whispered. "I locked it tight before we left. Were you in here nosing around?"

"No, sir. We couldn't find it. You put that charm on these hallways that kept getting us lost."

Snape took a breath and removed his wand. "Stay here. If I'm not back in two minutes, notify Professor Dumbledore."

Harry nodded. "Of course."

Painstakingly, Snape creaked open the door. The chamber was so dim, it didn't really matter that there were torches just outside. Illuminating his wand, he stepped just inside the threshold.

Harry was right beside him, his own wand also illuminated.

There was no time to rebuke him, as Snape looked upon the devastation that had once been their quarters.

"Oh my God," Snape whispered.

Their cozy, black sitting room looked like someone had simply turned it upside down and shaken it. The black couch, the ebony chairs, and the matching rugs – shredded remnants of what they were just days ago. A window was shattered beyond – and torn curtains blew at grotesque angles. Pentagrams, crosses and other bizarre figures were hastily painted or carved into walls.

They crept through the sitting room into the study. A sea of papers and books lay strewn on the rugs – many ripped apart, as if by a werewolf, or worse.

Fumes and stench from broken flasks and jars filled the air, until Harry rushed over and threw open a window. His desk was overturned, drawers thrown helter-skelter.

Finally, and perhaps with the most dread, they opened the bedroom door and threw it back. The bed was literally ripped to shreds. Feathers lay everywhere; drawers were pulled out and thrown carelessly against the walls; wallpaper was torn; even the lovely black crib was torn apart – its sheets ripped crazily.

"Good God…" Snape murmured. "Who could have done this?"

Harry paused, thinking deeply.

"Malfoy, sir?"

"He's…not in any condition," Snape replied evasively.

"Well…if her father weren't mortal, my money would be on him," Harry answered darkly. "But seeing that he was, I don't know, sir. He was mortal, wasn't he, sir?"

Rushing over to an oil lamp that remained, somehow standing upright, Snape struck a match and lit it. It first glowed faintly, and then more brightly, casting pale light across the room and making a bad situation even worse.

"Come home, Amelia…" read, or rather dripped, a grotesque, bloody sign, running horribly down the wall above the bed.

On the wall to the side of the bed, read, "Give her up, Snape, and live."

On the bed, in the middle of the room, lay papers.

Leaning closer, he picked them up.

Medical letterhead. Medical papers. Admission forms.

A fingerprint card. A doctor's order for seclusion and plenty of sedatives. Snape forgot to breathe.

"Sir…" Harry gasped, pointing.

In the corner of the room lay two, beautiful, 12-foot pythons, strewn and motionless.

--

It seemed like time stood still. Snape and Harry hardly moved – helplessly looking again and again at the walls and the snakes – as if they were waiting for more to go wrong.

Harry finally knelt down beside the pythons and began to whisper in the hypnotic language of Parseltongue. A few minutes later, he leaned up.

"They're alive, sir, but they need help. Professor Lupin, perhaps?"

Snape nodded. "Go."

Gathering them up as gently as possible, Harry hurried from the chamber.

But time had passed faster than Snape knew.

The door to the bedroom opened and there was Amelia, pale and drawn, holding the medical forms.

His eyes were full of fear. "Amelia, go…please, leave. Now."

Tears began to run from her increasingly hysterical eyes.

"No…" she began to scream, a wave of dizziness and nausea washing over her.

Flashes. Flashes and more flashes.

Flashes of a hospital. Yellow again. Yellow light and tight, tight restraints around her wrists and ankles.

The needles. The pain. The stretcher. The screaming.

But who was that next to her stretcher? It had always been blurry before, but now, it wasn't. Tall, dark hair, blue, blue eyes.

Scribbling. A stack of papers. His large hand, filling in the information. A wedding ring. A signature. A cold, firm smile.

"I knew it. I knew it was him," she whispered. "It's my father, isn't it? He's causing all of this. He wants to ruin us, like he tried to ruin me. He did it. He put me in that hospital."

"Amelia…no. Please…calm down." But the words were so useless at a time like this, so ridiculous, they nearly died on his lips.

"Where are the snakes?" she whispered desperately.

Snape's eyes glittered in panic. "They're going to be all right. Potter's taken them to Lupin."

Clutching her hands in horror, she finally spotted the crib.

"Amelia…please…don't," he attempted.

"No. This isn't happening again!" she screamed.

Sometime around then, the room blew up.


	72. Book 2 Chapter 47

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 47

"Why didn't you just make the damned sandwiches?" Snape whispered, glancing over at Amelia's bed from his own.

Opening her eyes, Amelia's head began to pound anew when the glare from the infirmary windows stung her eyes.

"Severus…" she whispered. "Oh, my God, I knew something was wrong last night. I could hear it in your voice…"

"Stay calm, for all of our sakes. You'll destroy the hospital, too."

It was then she realized she was laying in a narrow hospital bed. Ugly, white, stiff, starched sheets pulled high, an IV in one arm and a blood pressure monitor around the other. Her head was bandaged on one side and felt like it would explode in pain – and scorch marks ran up and down her arms.

In the next bed lay Snape, attached to similar apparatus. Minerva was in a corner, and Albus paced back and forth at the foot of their beds, holding the baby, who was probably the only one smiling within two miles.

"I feel so tired," she whispered. "Oh Severus, I'm so sorry. I'm so terribly sorry. I did it again, didn't I?"

His eyes rolled. One eye was blackened terribly, and his head, also, wore a bandage.

Albus walked over to their beds. "Well. Well, well…" he said.

Tears of shame, worry and more shame brimmed in Amelia's eyes, and she held out her arms to the baby. Albus plopped him in.

"Oh my God, I could have hurt Severus," she wept. "I'm so sorry, headmaster. I'll be more careful…"

"At least you had the good sense to leave him with us," Albus said tiredly, shaking his head. "Amelia, my, my, what are we going to do."

Madame Pomfrey bustled up on the other side of her bed. She hadn't said more than two words to Amelia since Snape had been in the hospital – despite all the bouquets. Frankly, it seemed just a bit of an overreaction, Amelia thought grumpily.

Hastily checking Amelia's vital signs, she nodded eagerly and flipped through a chart.

"Good as new. You're free to go, Mrs. Snape."

Albus' brow furrowed. "Madame Pomfrey, are you quite sure? She hasn't been here all that long."

She smiled uneasily. "Oh yes, sir. Amelia's from strong, Midwestern stock. No sense letting her get bed sores here."

"Excuse me," Amelia said coldly, "I was knocked unconscious. There is possibility of a concussion."

Madame Pomfrey forced another smile. "I highly doubt it…"

"You should be checking my reflexes and my pupil dilation, and keeping an eye on my blood pressure and nausea level - for at least twelve more hours. Isn't there a _doctor_?"

"Oh, Amelia…you're healthy as a horse," Madame Pomfrey gushed, far too enthusiastically. "Besides, our insurance carrier won't pay for another night."

"What insurance carrier?" Amelia probed. "I thought you operated on a system of socialized medicine."

Madame Pomfrey paled a shade or two. "Well, you see…you're from America. We use Lloyd's of London to insure our foreign patients…"

"Lloyd's is a secondary underwriter," Amelia said bitingly.

Snape glanced over and the corners of his mouth began to betray a smile.

Albus shook his head in confusion. "Madame Pomfrey, really, what's the hurry?"

Squaring her shoulders, Madame Pomfrey took a breath.

"Sir, our department of medicine is very up-to-date. Recently, we've adopted a holistic approach to treatment."

"Oh? I hadn't heard," Albus replied suspiciously.

"Yes. Our philosophy is that it is far better to let patients recover in their own environment. Yes, uh…their own environment. It's healing. Healing and healthy."

"There's no place for us to go. Our chamber is in ruin," Snape said dismally. "Thanks to a certain chaos witch."  
"Well, Severus, it was frightening," Amelia said meekly.

"_You're_ frightening," he muttered. "I should obey those ghastly signs and turn you in."

Frustrated and exhausted, she lay back and stared at the ceiling. Damn. Why did she always do things like that? Oh yes. Because she was a chaos witch. She felt so much better.

Albus sighed. "She's frightening to someone, that's for certain."

"My father…my father is the one who did this," she said darkly. "He's the one who had me go to that hospital. I know that now. He's the one who wants me back."

Snape sighed and took out a cigarette, but Madame Pomfrey quickly removed it from his hand and shook her head disapprovingly.

"I will go back," Amelia stated. "I want to leave. I'm an abomination; a chaos witch, and I don't want to endanger you any further."

Professor Dumbledore looked from one of them to another, unsmiling. Suddenly, Amelia vaguely regretted her words. Had she given him inspiration?

Albus cleared his throat.

"Severus, be in my study tomorrow morning at nine."


	73. Book 2 Chapter 48

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 48

"Please, close the door and sit down," Albus said calmly, the following morning after breakfast.

Severus, having slept little and having endured nightmares in the fitful sleep he did have, complied. Was this it? Goodbye to Hogwarts? Sacked for good? Well, could he blame Albus? Not really. He'd been good enough to accept Severus once long ago. A second time was a stretch of anyone's hospitality. God, where would they go?

Visions of some dreary pharmacy flitted through his mind, and he struggled to push them away.

"So..." Albus said, looking up from his payroll accounts and folding his hands.

Snape sat rigidly, not even swallowing.

"So…" Albus continued. "We've had quite a year here at Hogwarts, between you and Amelia. Quite a time. Poisonings, explosions, babies, student-tortoises, unauthorized trips to Azkaban. Quite interesting."

"I'm sorry, sir. Whatever has happened is my fault. Amelia is really a victim in all this."

"Somehow, I can't quite see her in that role. What is this I hear about chaos witches?"

Snape's throat contracted. He searched for words, but there were none.

"Headmaster, my wife may be…probably is… a chaos witch," Snape finally admitted. "I won't lie to you. We learned it from the commissioner at Azkaban."

"Hmm. Minos. Very good at his job but no sense of timing." Albus began writing more payroll checks.

Snape leaned forward. "Did you hear me, sir? She is probably a chaos witch."

"Yes, I know."

"You know?"

"My great, great, great grandmother was one. Poor woman was burned to a crisp – by the _other _witches. Ignorance…the curse of life."

"You knew about this? For how long, sir?"

"Oh, my…probably the first night she was here…you can always tell; something about the eyes."

"But…she may be dangerous, sir. Should we go? Is that what you called me here for?"

"No. That was not why I called you here."

"Are you dismissing me?"

Albus' eyes rolled.

"Severus, you're over-reacting. We're all dangerous. Lupin can be dangerous. You could easily snap; and you did, once. An asteroid could hit us. Minerva could…well, no, probably not Minerva."

Snape's mouth fell open.

"Sir, as much as I love this school, I certainly don't want to endanger the students. You know how I feel about Lupin's being here, foaming at the mouth."

Albus shrugged and continued making out checks.

"Well, you know…life is risky. Amelia seems to be attracting more students, and we're in the black for the first time in three years. Most women are chaos, when you really…"

"My God, I can't believe this," Snape sat forward and clenched the edge of the desk. "Headmaster, this is my wife we're talking about. Her life…her future. Her father told her she was an abomination. Now we've confirmed it?"

Albus removed his glasses.

"Sir, we'll have to leave. If she's dangerous, where will we go?"

"Oh Severus, no one needs to leave."

"We can't let her blow up the school."

"Weasley does a fine job of that in your classes, as I recall."

"Or inadvertently…"

"Help defeat the dark lord? Bring revenue to the school? Make a dead man live again? Breathe a little life into this old place?"

"I love her, and I'll take care of her forever, even if it kills me, which it very well may. But I won't jeopardize the students."

"Severus, did it ever occur to you that I've taken risks with each and every one of my teachers, especially you?"

Snape forced his gaze down, and his lips tightened.

"You, Severus. You came to me, yes. You confessed your work with the dark lord, yes. Could you have been lying? Yes."

"Then why the hell didn't you send me to Azkaban? You could have done it with your connections." he asked blackly. "Wouldn't everyone be better off?"

Albus lit his pipe and a peaceful cloud of tobacco smoke filled the room. "Well, not Harry. He'd be dead. And Hermoine and Ron, probably dead, or werewolves. And God knows who else, since Potter would be dead and unable to fulfill the prophecies. Maybe we'd all be dead – or slaves to _him_."

Stupefied, Snape stared at him, but said nothing.

"We all take great risks. It's a risk to keep you; it's a risk to let you go. Look at Lupin – he could attack if not for your potion, but he's a gifted teacher."

"Not so gifted," Snape groused.

"And you, Severus. You, who suffered so much as a boy; then turned against us as a young man. Then you came back; and nearly killed yourself. I could have let you, but I didn't."

Severus lowered his head. "Why didn't you?"

"There is no reason, except instinct and trust. There is no intellectualizing or rationalizing trust. It just is or it isn't. A mystery."

Snape's mouth was a rigid line of pain. His eyes were dark and tired, as he covered them with a hand.

"I made a very, very wise decision, I now know," Albus added.

"How?" Snape groaned. "How do you know?"

"You just know, Severus. And Amelia knows. She's chaos. They see things; more than we."

Snape managed a weak smile. "You don't think we'll destroy the school?"

"No. Not at the moment. What I really wanted to say was, do not think of leaving. Leave that to me. Things are getting darker. We'll need the both of you one day soon."


	74. Book 2 Chapter 49

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 49

"You're fine. Get out." Madame Pomfrey tossed the invoice onto her bed and bustled away.

"Where are my clothes?" Amelia demanded.

That was right. Where _were_ her clothes?

She hadn't seen them since the explosion.

Where were they?

With a slow, sickening realization, Amelia looked down at herself. A pale _blue_ hospital gown. Nauseating.

Where was her dress? Certainly not hanging on the nearby clothing rack. That was just some charred, frayed bunch of black cloth…

No. No, it couldn't be. God, no. Anything but that.

"My dress…" she whispered in horror. "Not my dress…"

Snape clamped a hand around her wrist.

"Stay calm, Amelia," he urged in a low voice. "The dress…is fine."

Sweat began to bead on her forehead, and tears welled in her tired eyes. Her blood pressure must have spiked 20 points.

"You're just saying that so I won't blow up the hospital."

"Well, I think that's rather justified," he replied, his voice betraying more tension.

The tears began to fall from her eyes.

"It's priceless. It has so much sentimental value. You love it so much. You fell in love with me when I was in it…"

"That's entirely untrue," he protested, in growing panic. "I fell in love with you when you were out of it."

But she would hear none of it, and her eyes were now wild with fear and agitation.

"I can't live without it," she murmured. "I just wouldn't feel like myself. It's enchanted. Enchanted with love."

Albus, who was standing nearby, glanced at Snape, with some amount of pity; and Snape looked at Albus. Both just shook their heads.

Behind her, a window began to fracture. Rumbling sounds could be heard and a few lamps began to swing. Minerva closed her eyes in dread.

"Oh no," Snape groaned.

"We're definitely going to have to increase our property-casualty insurance," Albus muttered.

But then, a familiar voice filtered through the tension, fracturing it like her fear had fractured the window.

"Fear not, Mrs. Snape," the confident voice said from around the corner.

Pausing, Amelia wiped her eyes, and suddenly Lupin appeared, two healthy pythons draped contentedly around his shoulders.

Even Snape looked just a bit glad to see him.

"I, Remus Lupin, esteemed professor of the dark arts and the man you should have married, can help you in your hour of need."

Snape didn't know whether to smile or frown. Well, he'd just smile. Maybe Remus would do something good for a change.

Amelia pressed Severus' hand, hoping he'd refrain from any remarks.

Bowing gallantly, Remus thrust the snakes into Snape's arms and returned his gaze to her.

"Amelia," he kissed her hand. "A vision, as always."

Severus scowled. "Oh yes, she's lovely. Hospital garb does so much for her figure."

Lupin could only shake his head. "Amelia, Amelia…how can you endure him?" He sat on the edge of the bed.

"I heard your poor apartment exploded. Just remember, you always have a home with me."

Her eyes filled with gratitude. "Why, that's very kind of you, professor."

"C'est rien. Unfortunately, I have humble quarters. I'm afraid Severus won't be able to join us."

"Hilarious," Snape snapped.

"Severus can sleep in the screaming shack, while we sleep in my…"

"We're late for class, Amelia," Snape hissed.  
"What, may I ask, is this garment issue that is clouding your beautiful eyes?" Lupin asked.

She pointed. "It's ruined. I made the room explode and the poor dress got the brunt."

Lupin studied the fabric. "It looks the same to me…I mean, oh, I'm so sorry. How tragic."

She smiled sadly. "It has incredible sentimental value. Severus would be heartbroken if it were ruined."

Snape sighed deeply. "Really, Amelia, I've been through bitter times; I'll somehow survive."

She shook her head. "No, no. I won't hear of it. You've had enough pain. I remember that day…"

"Oh God, not the story…"

"That day so long ago…

"A year?"

"…when you ordered me to wear black…" Her eyes became starry and far-off.

Snape yawned. Lupin stifled a laugh by pretending to cough.

She smiled dreamily. "When I came back, dressed in it, he didn't smile – but I knew he liked it."

"How? How did you know?" Lupin asked curiously.

"Intuition."

Snape frowned. "You're not intuitive. You just make things up. Like this romance we're supposed to be having."

"Remember how we danced on Halloween night, and you liked this dress so much?"

"As I recall, I said something fairly nasty about it."

"But you were just being _you._"

His lips twisted. "What does that mean? You always say that, and I don't know what it means."

"I had to take the waist out when I was expecting the baby, of course," she whispered, catching his eye in just the right way.

Snape's face darkened. "You wore it when you were pregnant?"

"All the way to the hospital." Her eyes became warm and far-off as she remembered the beautiful experience.

He closed his eyes in disbelief. Even Lupin began looking concerned.

"Perhaps, it's time to possibly think about…amending your wardrobe," Lupin attempted valiantly.

"Well, I have added lace here and there. And I've added the little flounces to the blouse."

"Yes, well…"

"I'm so glad you recommended black, Severus. I love black. It's the best color in the world." She gazed lovingly up into Severus' eyes.

"It's not really a color, if I recall."

"But it is. It's so deep and rich and mysterious. You look so good in it." She began to lean toward him, forgetting where she was.

The snakes threw their heads back and started sputtering with laughter. Amelia's eyes darkened, and she glared warningly at them.

Snape laid a hand on her shoulder. "That's wonderful, my dear, and I'm flattered, but your dress - it's not actually black anymore. It's rather…gray, or charcoal, or…I don't really know what color it is."

"I mean…perhaps, a _new_ dress..." Snape stammered.

She blinked in shock. "I beg your pardon?"

"Wouldn't you love one? I'll spend money on it. Lots and lots of money. I promise."

Her eyes softened and she smiled. "That's very generous of you; but no, thank you. I love this dress."

He smiled anemically. This wasn't going well. It wasn't going anywhere.

"To be honest, I think this dress is good luck." She smiled warmly and admired it.

"I saw one the other day that was better luck."

"I don't see how."

"Oh it was. Professor Dumbledore said so. Isn't that right, headmaster?"

"Oh yes, absolutely." Albus was literally shaking with laughter and had to go around the corner.

Amelia waited until he was gone.

"What does he know? He's so old-fashioned. He's just jealous because we look so good together, in our black. We're the most stylish couple in the school."

Lupin paused. He looked at Severus; then her; then Severus; then the snakes.

"You two really are made for each other," Lupin muttered, and the snakes started up again.

"Just re-charm the dress, _dog;_ I mean, god, of the dark arts. She won't stop until something's done. Do something to earn your rabies potion."

Lupin took the remnant carefully in his hands, examined what remained of it, and then glanced at Amelia.

"I can't say that I really see much difference," he muttered, but Snape smacked his back and he stopped.

"I should easily be able to _reverse the spell_," Remus announced proudly.

"Really?" Amelia asked eagerly, clasping her hands in joy.

Lupin nodded. "Of course, my dear. Anything for you. I just need a few, tiny details."

"Yes, oh yes; anything." She smiled radiantly and hugged her husband, who seemed to almost cringe.

"Your measurements – bust, hips and waist, please. I'll go get a tape."

"I'll do it," Snape said icily.

"Measurements, sir?" Amelia asked in confusion. "Why would you need my measurements for a reversal spell?"

Lupin paused. "Defense Against the Dark Arts spells aren't like potions spells, Amelia; _they're _complex."

"Shall I challenge that analysis and let you drink the results?" Snape retorted calmly.

Lupin ignored him. "I can't explain my methods, or we'll be here until next week, Mrs. Snape. Let's just say that the more information I can give to the seamstr...I mean, spell, the more precise the reversal."

Snape looked down at the floor. Amelia's brow furrowed. The snakes listened intently.

"That's awfully personal," she groused. "But, I suppose, if it's really necessary."

"Thank you, Amelia," Lupin answered. "Your beloved dress should be re…uh… recharmed, in no time."


	75. Book 2 Chapter 50

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 50

"Two out of three," Albus rolled the dice again.

Minerva smirked when they turned up odds. "I'm afraid fortune points to you, Albus."

"Three out of five," Albus muttered, blowing on them for luck.

"I've already stated, I'd be happy to accommodate _Amelia_," Lupin said, as he, Minerva and Albus sat by the firelight later that day.

"Very funny." Minerva scowled.

Lupin raised his hands innocently. "Is it my fault my quarters are cramped? I've asked for a pay raise repeatedly and…"

"It is out of the question," Albus groused. "No pay raise and no Amelia. I don't need a duel at Hogwarts; nor do I need to replace one of my finest professors who dies over a chaos witch."

Minerva clenched her hands and looked down nervously. "Well, Albus, unfortunately, I don't have much room; and Severus would die before he'd live on Gryffindor soil. I'd better not put them in the awkward position of having to decline."

Albus frowned. "You live in a lovely cottage. And it's not on any particular soil. There's no soil issue here. What the devil are you talking about?"

"Well…Hagrid has a nice cottage, too."

"Hagrid and Snape mix like oil and water."

"Well, who does Snape mix with, besides _my niece_," she grumbled. "Of all the people in the universe, he had to mix with _her_…"

"I don't see what harm there'd be for me to host Amelia," Lupin went on, more to himself than anyone else.

"What about Professor Trelawney?" Albus mused.

"Oh, she'd drop some prophecy about the baby and Amelia would have the school in ruins. Let's not borrow trouble." Minerva's voice was firm.

Albus lit a pipe. "How about the screaming shack? Hagrid could slap a new coat of paint on it and…"

"No. It's bad luck. On second thought, let Severus stay there while Amelia stays with me," Lupin attempted.

"You lost the wager, headmaster," Minerva said with a sly smile. "You have spacious apartments – and you can protect them from spells better than any of us."

"I'm too old and set in my ways for a baby – especially that baby. He's probably a chaos wizard."

Minerva stifled a smile. "He's sweet as pie; he's just a bit rambunctious."

"He tore through my study like a tornado the other day," Albus complained. "Papers were flying everywhere."

"He's always off with them during the day," Minerva added. "And Amelia says he's sleeping through the night. The pythons sing to him. It's actually very touching."

"I can sing, too," Lupin said brightly. "I'll sing to the baby and to Amelia. Snape can sleep in the screaming shack."

Minerva gave Remus her signature death stare.

"I'm too messy," Albus attempted.

"What?" Minerva exclaimed. "You have an entire tower. You'd never see them. And I want my niece protected."

"Let's draw lots." Albus forced a smile. "The dice may be loaded."

Minerva stiffened. "Headmaster, Amelia and Severus are not commodities to be wagered. They're people."

Albus grunted something. "The short stick loses…I mean…wins the joy of their company."

Minerva's eyes narrowed and Albus went to work whittling matchsticks.


	76. Book 2 Chapter 51

_Dear Readers,_

_I promise this story has…a plot. I just love to write the fun parts like this chapter. Things will still be scary later on, but I can't resist writing these scenes and am in no hurry to finish the book, so why not?_

_Love, Adele. Have a Snapish day!_

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 51

"Oh my God, Severus..."

Crashes. Shattering glass. More crashes.

"Oh yes! Yes, yes! You're amazing...oh my God..."

Albus turned back toward Minerva with weary eyes.

"I can't do this," he muttered. "They have no consideration. I haven't slept for three nights."

Minerva's eyes widened in shock, and a thin blush crept over her cheeks.

Albus lit his pipe. "They don't care. They're so loud, Hagrid will probably be complaining."

Minerva groaned and shook her head.

More glass, or something, splintered in the background. Then, another huge crash.

"That's probably the chandelier. They're on the ceiling now," Albus remarked dryly. "They're always up there."

Minerva could only shake her head. "Well, I'm sorry, Albus. Lord, what next?"

"More babies, I suspect." He took a long puff.

The bedroom door clicked open and Amelia burst out, wearing Snape's nightshirt, fortunately.

"I'll get the whipped cream," she said brightly before her eyes registered the two newcomers.

Albus and Minerva stood stoically. The words died on her lips as she turned to face them.

"Hello, Aunt Minerva," she attempted. "What a…lovely day."

"It's raining," Minerva replied neatly.

Amelia smiled. "Well, excuse me, I just need something from the dining room..."

"Are we in the way?" Minerva said in her most disapproving tone.

Amelia paused. "No. Of course not. Is everything all right?"

Albus' eyes glazed over.

Minerva bit her lip. "Well, yes, I suppose."

Amelia smiled in relief. "Oh good. By the way, headmaster, did you happen to see a bowl of whipped cream?"

"That's it." Albus thundered. "That is it. I'm finished. You cannot remain with me any longer."

Amelia's eyes widened in concern.

"But, sir...why?"

Silence.

Her eyes filled with more worry.

"Is the baby too much trouble?"

"He's a nightmare, but that's not the issue at hand," Albus answered.

"Is it the snakes, then?" she asked.

"No."

The bedroom door opened and Snape walked out, fully dressed and as nonchalant as if he were entering the dining hall for tea.

"Oh, I know. It's my dress. I'm sorry I'm not wearing it right now. Professor Lupin is recharming it."

"No, it's not the dress."

Her forehead creased. Albus forced a polite smile.

"Amelia, my dear, it's you. And Severus."

Severus strode up behind her, and laid a hand on her shoulder, looking utterly innocent, baffled and concerned.

"Amelia, what are you doing in my shirt?" he asked innocuously. "We have class soon."

Albus coughed. "A valiant attempt, Severus, but it won't work with me."

"I beg your pardon?" Snape asked in false bewilderment.

"It's hard enough listening to you at three in the morning, but at three in the afternoon?"

For the first time, Amelia began to see his point. She blushed to her hairline; yet, at the same time felt oddly defensive.

After all, it was the baby's naptime. Was that so wrong with using one's time wisely?

"I have no idea what's going on," Snape said dryly. "I merely stopped over to pick up the clotted cream for my scones."

Amelia glanced at him, and he glanced at her. He was killing himself to keep a straight face, but her eyes were too much. They both dissolved into laughter. Their eyes met and hers widened into huge, blue, sloppy pools of adoration.

"I love you," she whispered, taking his hand.

Albus frowned. "That's all well and good, but you'll have to love each other somewhere else."

Her mouth fell open in shock and dismay.

"Sir, really, I don't understand. You married us, after all," Amelia bristled.

"Yes, headmaster, the _marriage bond_. It's your fault for goading me into marrying her." Snape pressed his lips together, but they still turned up at the corners.

Albus frowned and shook his head. "Severus, you have just as much culpability in this as she has. You stole the cream from the kitchens."

Amelia burst into delighted laughter. Minerva slumped into a chair.

Snape paused, at a loss for words.

Albus squared his shoulders. "I think it would be best for all concerned if you all went and stayed with Minerva."

Minerva's eyes widened in panic. "Me? But..."

Amelia's forehead furrowed as she searched for a plea bargain.

"We'll try to be quieter?"

"Ha!" Albus stiffened and looked away.

"We'll repair the chandelier. Oh, and replace the boxspring?"

"No."

"We'll stay off of the ceiling?" Third plea.

"Goodbye. Minerva, get yourself a good set of earplugs."

--

"I just don't understand his attitude," Amelia grumbled, staring at the ceiling late that night. In Minerva's cottage.

Snape smiled and kissed the last of the cream off of her neck, pulling her closer.

"I can't help it if I occasionally call out."

"No, of course not."

"What we do is beautiful; and natural. If it's a little enthusiastic, sometimes...oh, he's such a curmudgeon."

"You know, Amelia," Severus said wistfully, "it's these little things you say...they make all the difference."

"I just don't think it's fair that we had to leave," she went on. "I'll bet it's the baby. I'll bet he just doesn't like children."

"Amelia, he's headmaster of a school."

She frowned.

"We're we really that loud?"

"Well, my dear, I think we sometimes forget where we are."

"Oh, possibly. I ruin everything."

He sighed. "No, please, Amelia. Not that again."

"Now we're exiled from our own quarters. We're wandering...like gypsies."

"So what? One bed's good as the next."

She laughed and tumbled on top of him.

"You know, I'm so happy I married you."

"You poor girl. Why?"

"Only a million reasons. I'm so sorry everyone is so hard on you. First, your father. Then, my father. Then, grumpy, old Professor Dumbledore."

He ran his hands through her hair. "I have the ultimate revenge. I married the prettiest, kindest woman in the world."

She sighed. "I'm a millstone around your neck."

"Well, that's true, but it's a wonderful stone."

She smiled. "I'm at home wherever you are. A bed, the baby, and you. That's all I need."


	77. Book 2 Chapter 52

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 52

"Oh my heavens," Minerva gasped, when she entered her cottage and saw at least a dozen of her best Steuben wine goblets lined up on the floor, with little bits of powder and spiders and God knew what else floating within.

Poof, went the third wine glass, and a huge blue spark lit up the room. Severus Jr. laughed in delight and Snape even smiled at his enthusiasm.

Minerva lunged for the glass, leaping as if she were 16, and retrieved it in mid-air.

"He's a natural, Minerva," Severus said brightly. "I think he has true potential."

"Isn't that lovely. Who is going to clean up this mess?"

"Oh, I'll get Amelia to do it." He shrugged and began to stir another glass.

"She's not a house elf, Severus."

"Oh? Well…you can do it then."

Muttering a few choice expletives under her breath, she reached for another wine glass, but Severus Jr. laughed and waved his father's wand at it. Boom!

Minerva cringed and gave a yelp, as the glass spun up in the air and exploded into red and blue raindrops that showered down on their heads.

"Really…Severus," she murmured, plucking the wand from his little hand and handing it back to the elder Snape.

"I couldn't do that until I was seven." Snape gave his son a brief squeeze and smiled proudly.

"Where is my niece?" Minerva asked tiredly.

"Out back, I think, feeding the pythons."

Sighing tiredly, Minerva trudged through the sitting room and out to her garden.

"…I can't believe you did this," Amelia scolded the larger python.

"Why not? We can't stand that chicken you make us. You use too much garlic."

"Garlic makes it taste better. May I remind you, we are here on my aunt's hospitality. Look what you did. She's going to kill me."

The larger python, with a huge bulge around its middle, simply rolled her eyes and yawned.

"If she throws us out because of you…"

"Hello, Amelia," Minerva greeted, unaware of the conversation at hand.

"Why, Aunt Minerva, hello. It's wonderful to see you. Are we being nice, quiet guests?"

Minerva surveyed the yard. "Well…"

Amelia forced a smile. "You're looking pretty today. Is that a new cape?"

"Where's Bessie?" Minerva asked, cutting through Amelia's smokescreen like a searchlight.

"Bessie?" Amelia repeated anemically.

"My prize hen. She won first place at the Hogsmead Harvest Festival."

"Oh."

"Where is she?" Minerva's eyes narrowed.

"I…really haven't seen her, Aunt Minerva."

"Why is that snake throwing back its head and shaking like that?"

"I don't know."

"You speak their language. Ask."

Amelia's eyes filled with anger as she listened to the cackling laughter of the snake. She turned back to her aunt.

"It's just a spasm. She's an _old_ snake, auntie. She just has episodes like that because she's so _ancient."_

The snake stuck out her tongue and hissed.

"Hmm." Again, Minerva glanced about the yard. "I don't see Bessie."

"Maybe she flew the coop," the eldest snake joked, breaking into more uproarious laughter. Even Amelia had to struggle to keep a straight face.

"Bessie…" Minerva called.

Amelia's eyes grew huge with guilt and panic. It was then that Minerva glimpsed the bulging python.

"Oh my God..."

"What?"

"You know _what_. That horrid python ate my Bessie! Oh my heavens..."

Amelia looked at Minerva, then the snake, then Minerva. In times like these there was but one thing to do.

Run.

She tore through the back door into the sitting room and through the hallway, and was headed for the front door, when Minerva pointed her wand, and crash, there were twenty padlocks around it.

Snape's eyes widened in surprise and he took the baby into his arms. Wine glasses had been knocked everywhere.

Amelia, having nowhere to go, suddenly darted behind Severus and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Really, Minerva, what's all this?" Snape demanded, shielding Amelia as best he could, with a baby in one arm.

Minerva's face was red with barely-contained rage.

"My best hen. My Bessie…devoured by one of your infernal snakes," Minerva cried, clenching her hands together.

"They're not my snakes. They're his. He's to blame." Snape pointed to his son, who just giggled and smiled brightly.

"I can't take this. I can't. You are the most troublesome, bizarre family I've ever seen; the baby notwithstanding, of course."

Amelia burst into tears. "If I try to pump the snake's stomach, it may die…and I can't kill another one…"

"I can't take one more day." Minerva's hands were shaking.

Snape frowned. "Now, Minerva, be reasonable…"

"No. You will have to take quarters elsewhere. I've tried; I really have. But even I have my limits."

"But…"

"Your snakes are so rude, I can't believe it."

Snape sighed. "It's just a chicken. For God's sake you're a cat half the time – perhaps you ate Bessie."

Minerva's mouth fell open in indignation.

Bursting into tears herself, Minerva ran into her bedroom, slamming the door.

---

An hour later, Amelia, lugging a plump, fluffy chicken, tapped on Minerva's door and turned the knob.

Treading carefully inside, she saw her aunt lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Auntie…" she began tentatively.

"What is that?" Minerva asked wearily.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Amelia smiled. "Severus made a potion for Hagrid, which I happen to think was scotch, and Hagrid traded for the hen. He says she's a wonderful layer."

The golden hen clucked contentedly and Amelia set it down on the bed. Minerva closed her eyes.

"I'm so, so sorry," Amelia said contritely. "The pythons will eat mice for a whole week. And we ordered you more of those goblets. You should have seen Severus writing the check; he's so tight, it was like he'd been told to cut off his hand." She giggled.

"Oh Amelia, that's really not necessary…"

Amelia smiled. "Yes, it is. I'm truly sorry, Aunt M. The pythons use my own guilt against me. I'm a slave to them – just because I served their brother for Christmas dinner."

Minerva closed her eyes.

"Do you remember that, auntie?"

Minerva sighed.

"Remember? When I butchered the python and made that wonderful Christmas meal…"

"Yes, yes, how could I forget," she said hurriedly, looking like she'd just as soon apparate to Pluto.

Amelia brushed a stray tear from her cheek and took Minerva's delicate hand in hers.

"I just came to say, I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused. You've been like a second mother to me over the last year, and I've taken you completely for granted."

"Don't worry about it, my dear," she said tiredly.

"I'm what's known as a chaos witch, and I suppose I do cause a bit of trouble. And Severus and I...well, we forget when we're together, and egg each other on a bit."

"Just a bit," Minerva sighed.

"But you've been there at every turn, Aunt Minerva. You saved me. You brought me here. I'm certain I'd be dead without you."

"Amelia, you exaggerate," she smiled. "And none of this was your fault. Someone wants you out of here, probably for his own purposes – and we're only doing our duty to protect you. We'd hardly abandon you to whomever this is."

"No. It's more than that. You've gone far beyond duty. I know what happened at the hospital back in Kansas – and how you got me out."

Minerva's eyes filled with anxiety. "Severus told you?"

Amelia smiled. "No. I had a vision. It came back to me."

Minerva looked down and pressed her lips together.

"I did what any respectable aunt would do, dear."

"Nonsense. I miss my mother desperately, and you've been there for me every minute, when I'm sure you feel a great loss, as well. You're grieving, too - and I've only thought about myself, and my own grief. It's high time I thanked you, from the bottom of my heart."

Minerva smiled sadly, and Amelia could see her eyes misting.

"I do miss Anna," Minerva admitted. "She was wonderful. So much like you, my dear. Honest and open."

"Like you, too," Amelia remarked.

"Except, while your honesty and openness won you Severus; hers got her your father. Ironic, isn't it?"

Amelia nodded sadly.

"I sometimes fear that, as I wasn't able to help her, I won't be able to help you. You're so impulsive – and…unpredictable. It worries me. I still can't believe she…oh, never mind."

Amelia studied her aunt's careworn face, and now, each line seemed to be one of kindness, one of concern. They were beautiful lines, each and every one.

"I couldn't believe it, either," Amelia said softly. "Severus…he's been an angel helping me through it. You should talk to him."

"Perhaps I shall," she mused.

"I love you, Aunt M, and I'm sorry for all the upheaval. I'm going to try to harness my powers, or whatever it is I have, and do some good."

"You've already done so much good," Minerva said wistfully. "You don't realize what a life Severus has led."

"If I cause too much trouble here at Hogwarts, Severus has a wonderful, haunted house in the moors. I could…"

Minerva rubbed her tired eyes. "Please, don't think of it. You're lovely to be with. I'm not angry with you - and I want you to stay here in the cottage just as long as you wish."

Smiling in joy, Amelia kissed her cheek.

"It's actually amusing to watch you wind Severus around your little finger." Minerva's eyes flickered.

"He's very grateful to you, Aunt Minerva. You know how he is and he may not say so, but he cares about you and respects you very deeply."

Minerva smiled.

"And, I…know you and my mother had a bit of a falling out over my father…"

Nodding regretfully, Minerva took a breath. "I tried so hard to warn her. I sensed he was up to no good, Amelia. You could see it in his eyes; hear it in his voice. Once…just once, I saw the mark on his arm. I told her, and she was so upset with me. And then I was horrible. I said I wouldn't attend the wedding. So they eloped. It was my fault."

Taking her hand and pressing it to her cheek, Amelia shook her head. "She never, ever stopped loving you. I can sometimes feel her, through you."

Minerva bit her lip and more tears fell from her eyes.

"Oh Amelia, she was so much like you. Fresh and vibrant and full of life. I think she probably had a bit of chaos in her."

Amelia smiled warmly. She loved it when Minerva would tell her stories about her mother.

"To see that man, that awful man, drain that from her; drain that joy from her. I couldn't watch. I begged her to come to Hogwarts. She wouldn't. She always had that confounded hope."

"Hope?"

"Yes, hope that it would all be better in some fantastic tomorrow she always dreamed of. Hope isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"I suppose not…" Amelia mused. "All I'm saying, is that if there is every anything I can do to repay you in some small way, please don't hesitate to ask."

"There is something you can do for me, dear." Minerva's eyes sparkled wickedly.

"What?"

"Have your ten children. Completely undo Severus. Do that, and any debt will be completely repaid."

Minerva smiled and Amelia laughed and hugged her tightly.


	78. Book 2 Chapter 53

Note: Hi everyone. This is the right version. There are small changes but I thought it made the scene better. Sorry. Adele

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 53

"Sherry, Amelia?" Remus offered languidly. "It's part of my private collection. I only break it out for special occasions like this."

"What's so special about it?" Snape groused.

"Why, having the honor of Amelia's company; and having the role of her protector, of course," Lupin answered, just as smoothly.

"I believe I am her protector," Snape said, biting off every word.

"Not according to Dumbledore," Lupin said softly and smiled at Amelia. "He wants you safe and sound with Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts aficionado."

"Sherry would be lovely, professor," she interrupted warmly, as they sat in front of the fire in his apartments.

He poured her a glass from a crystal decanter.

"Here's to…unrequited love." He delicately clicked her glass with his own.

Snape sat next to her, without a glass, scowling deeply and trying to look out the window.

"Sorry, old man," Remus remarked, glancing his way. "No offense. The vintage is quite rare. I really can't waste it."

Glaring at him hatefully, Snape then looked the other way.

Amelia cringed and hastily passed her glass to Severus, who coolly declined.

"Chocolate?" Lupin offered. "Only the best Belgian truffles for you, my dear." Lupin took one and passed her the crystal plate – with _one _and only one truffle remaining.

Graciously, she took it and smiled politely.

He glanced back at Severus. "Beg pardon, Severus. They're quite expensive; I'm sure you'll understand. You'll find a Wonka bar in the cupboard. It's from Halloween, but you know those things last forever."

Snape snapped out of the chair and paced over to the window. The baby, sitting on Amelia's lap, giggled and kicked his legs.

Amelia sighed and tasted the chocolate. Right now it didn't really have any taste. It was going to be a long night. Minerva had left for the weekend and Dumbledore had ordered them to stay with Lupin. Now it looked like they'd kill one another.

Minerva and her silly hair appointments…the stylist in Hogsmead was good enough for anyone. Why did she always traipse off to London?

"How often I've dreamed of this evening, Amelia," Remus added, swirling the wine in his glass. "You, me, a fire…"

"…her husband and _their_ son?" Snape needled. "The son they had _together_. As in…"

"It was a dream; not a nightmare," Remus answered hastily. "Severus, I seem to recall Dumbledore wanted to talk to you. Why don't you take the baby and check."

"A transparent attempt," Snape hissed. "I'd sooner drink that two-shilling grape juice as leave her alone one moment with a werewolf."

"You mean Hogwarts' defender of the faith? Crusader against all things dark and dangerous; like you, for instance?"

Snape muttered something under his breath and stared back out of the window.

Lupin merely smiled. "Amelia, frankly, I'm relieved. You're finally where you belong. Minerva and Albus have their hearts in the right place, but only I can truly protect you from whomever these pranksters are."

"I think _marauders _is a better word," Snape remarked.

"I think _lynch mob_ is even better," Amelia said bitterly.

"You see, Amelia, as your husband leans toward darkness; I lean to the light. We once had to defend against him."

"Was that before or after you all strung him up to a tree?" Amelia's voice chilled.

Lupin swallowed hard and looked down. Snape's head snapped around. His eyes actually lit up, and he gazed at Amelia like she'd just transformed into the Holy Mother. In another second, she thought, he just might genuflect.

Lupin cleared his throat. "Here…have a chocolate, old man." He popped another out of the box. Snape declined.

"Amelia, I shall be Defense Against the Dark Arts professor one day, when the board of regents comes to its senses," Snape added.

"I think not," Remus answered. "They'll always need someone to teach cooking."

That was it, Amelia thought impatiently. The infamous defense against the dark arts debate.'

Not again. She couldn't take it. She just couldn't. So many nights at dinner, they'd go round and round. Not tonight. No. Just no. She'd explode; and then other things would explode. She had to change the subject. The dress. She'd talk about the dress.

"Professor Lupin…" she interjected.

"Yes, my dear?"

"Tell me, how is my dress coming along?" Her voice became animated just thinking about it.

"…why, uh, wonderfully. The alterat…I mean the…apparation…is nearly complete."

She smiled. "What's in that Harrod'sbox, over there behind the chair?"

Lupin's eyes filled with panic. Snape smiled saccharinely.

"It's…for someone else." Lupin clenched his hands together.

"Who?" She batted her eyes.

"Professor Trelawney."

"She wears clothing from Harrod's? I thought she was a wonderful seamstress in her own right."

"Well, yes, sometimes..."

"I thought she made her own things."

"Well, everyone wants store-bought once in awhile."

"May I see it?"

"No. No, my dear. It's very, very private. She wants to surprise everyone. At the Halloween festivities."

"It's April."

"Never too early to prepare."

"Why would you have her clothing?"

Snape's eyes darted to Lupin and back to Amelia. Time was of the essence, both men knew.

"Well, Amelia," Snape faltered, "anything imported into the school must be inspected…and who better to be a customs agent than Lupin. You know how dogs at the airport sniff out contraband. Well, we have our own in-house dog…"

"I respect Harrod's clothing; but of course, not as much as my dress."

"No, of course not." Lupin's eyes rolled.

"Do you think my dress is from Harrod's originally?" she mused.

"Perhaps from Hagrid's…" Snape murmured, his voice breaking from just-barely contained laughter, and Lupin nearly spat out his wine in shaking spasms, and had to cover his eyes.

"I've only seen Harrod's in fashion magazines. I'm afraid to go in because of the perfume ladies. Might I please see it professor? Please, please…"

She made her eyes large and pleading and beautiful. Snape groaned. Lupin began to breathe hard as he succumbed to their hypnotic power. Even Lupin knew that once she locked onto something she wanted, she was like a steam locomotive until she got it. But try as he might, he couldn't break her gaze.

Then, something went wrong.

The breathing became harder. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His eyes began to glitter.

Instinctively, she stepped backward and clasped Severus' hand.

"Oh my God. I don't understand…" Lupin managed to grit out the words.

His hands began to contort in a hundred different ways. Hair began to appear on his face, on his hands. Even his facial bone structure seemed to contort.

"Get out…get out now. I'm changing," he whispered, just barely able to say the words. "You botched the potion, you idiot. You botched the…"

And then he began to cry out in agony and double over. Her heart lept with pity for him. Symptoms raced through her mind, automatically as if she were back in the emergency room. Could it be Tetanus? Rabies? Meningitis? Epilepsy?

But no. His entire body was changing. Bizarre, unearthly sounds that hurt her ears and made her sick to her stomach.

Then, she realized, as she noticed the full moon glowing through the window.

But they hadn't botched the potion. She knew it. Snape knew it. They'd checked it again and again.

Snape, holding the baby in one arm, grabbed Amelia's hand and began to tear out of the room, but the door was locked tight – from the outside.

As Snape was frantically whispering words to apparate the three of them, it happened.

It was so fast. An instant in time. Just a speck in the grand scheme of things. But something that would change the course of one's life.

So many things were that way, she began to ruminate. Receiving bad news from a physical; crashing a car; losing one's temper; slicing one's wrists…all over in an instant. But not done with.

One instant. An instant that seemed so easy to get rid of; to turn back; to control – but an instant that was iron-clad. Unable to be changed, even by God. She'd heard it said that not even God could change the past. Was that right? Was that true?

It was then she noticed the mark on her arm. Funny, she didn't feel much. She just noticed it, like she would a bee sting. Maybe it was the swelling. Or the redness. Or the blood, running in a steady stream down her right forearm.


	79. Book 2 Chapter 54

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 54

Amelia stared numbly at her arm.

Blood.

Just like that night. Wasn't _that night_ just a year ago? Two years? A day? Today?

Standing; staggering. Out on the lawn; weaker and weaker. Like now...

Severus stared on in horror; his eyes first panicked; then, pits of rage.

Tears streamed from her eyes.

Lupin only whimpered and backed away. But they hardly noticed him.

It was then that she saw Snape appear probably the closest she would ever seen him to his Deatheater state.

Rage and hatred contorted the angles of his face. His teeth gnashed horribly, and his eyes were black pools. His breathing was erratic and coming in short gasps. He looked malevolent. Dark. Vengeful. At least, moreso than usual.

Crouching pathetically in the corner of the room, Lupin, a full werewolf by now, glowered at them all - foam and salavia dripping from his own gnashing jaws.

Severus' face had lost all emotion. No anger, no hatred, nothing. Except resolution. Marble. Like a tiger's eyes when it looked upon prey.

"God damn you," Snape hissed. "I never wanted you here. I warned Dumbledore again and again; but no, fool that he is, he wouldn't listen. No one listens to me. And now you curse the one person who means anything to me on this earth..."

"Severus," Amelia whispered desperately, wondering if he even were Severus anymore. "Please, let's find help. Let's get the baby out of here…"

His eyes darkened horribly. Then he smiled, and that was probably the worst of all.

"I have all the help I need, right here. I prepared these little gems long ago, just for this moment."

Wild-eyed in panic, Amelia could only watch as Snape removed a simple, gleaming revolver from his breast pocket and popped in a couple of simple, gleaming bullets. Silver bullets.

"Oh my God, Severus, please…" she cried, but he seemed not to hear and began to take aim.

With a crash, the door burst open and Harry rushed inside, gasping in shock at the scene but quickly getting a hold of himself enough to see what Snape was doing.

"No, professor, don't," he shouted. "You'll go to Azkaban."

"For killing a werewolf? Hardly. They'll erect a statue to me in the middle of Hogsmead."

Snape was beyond reason; beyond logic. Fury, perhaps not entirely new, blinded him, deafened him, to anyone or anything around him - anything but the blood on his wife's arm, and the werewolf in the corner with her blood on his mouth.

"My wife has endured enough misery for three lifetimes and now you pass your filthy disease to her? I won't have it. You will die so she can live."

With that, Snape took final aim and cocked the gun, making sure it was pointed dead on for Lupin's heart.

"Experiamus," Harry cried, aiming his wand at Snape, who promptly blew up into the air and crashed against the far wall.

When the dust settled, Snape glared hatefully at Harry.

"That's the second time you've done that," he muttered.

"Sir, you have a son to think of," Harry cried in agony. "You can't murder Lupin. You can't."

"You certainly can't. You'll go to prison," Minerva cried, rushing in behind Harry.

"It's mercy killing, you fools. Unless he dies, Amelia will be cursed as a werewolf for life…"

Harry pointed. "Look, he's whimpering. Look..."

"Of course he is. He knows a silver bullet when he sees one," Snape hissed, re-cocking the revolver.

"No. Severus, stop," Amelia begged. "I feel something."

Snape's voice cracked. "What do you feel? His filthy poison flowing through your veins?"

"No, Severus, I swear; it's something else. Please, I'm begging you."

Amelia handed Minerva the baby and hurried over to Lupin, crying and not even sure what she, herself was doing.

Kneeling next to him, and knowing Severus' gun and Harry's wand were poised right over her shoulder, aimed at Remus' heart, she waited.

Lupin paused, whimpered again, and licked the remaining blood from his lips. Then. he licked her hand and put his head between his paws. But, they weren't paws. They were hands.

Harry looked at Snape, in shock, and Snape returned the look.

In another few minutes, the wolf was gone and only Remus knelt on the floor, exhausted, bloodied, torn and sweating.

"Professor, are you all right?" Amelia asked in panic.

Lupin looked at her in agony, seeing the puncture wound on her inner arm.

Looking up at Snape, he saw the gun, but to Amelia's surprise, he did not so much as wince.

"Do it, Snape," he croaked. "Do it."

"If you insist." Severus shrugged and aimed. Harry snatched it away and threw it to Minerva, who promptly pocketed it.

"No, Severus," Amelia urged him. "Look what happened. The moon's still full and Professor Lupin is...himself."

"Didn't you take the potion, you bastard?" Snape demanded. "You idiot, why didn't you take the potion?"

"I did, Severus. Upon my honor, every drop."

"Let me see the flask. You have no honor."

Exhausted, Lupin passed Severus the bottle. As he'd said, every drop was gone. Severus sniffed the air, and then sniffed the bottle.

"Something's wrong," he said definitively. "I smell something…something's a bit off."

Amelia clasped her hands in vexation. "Could it have been tampered with, dear?"

Snape looked at him darkly. Lupin rubbed his temples and crouched hopelessly in the corner, wishing he were dead.

"Just kill me," Lupin whispered. "Amelia, I am so horribly sorry. I've turned you into a werewolf. I can't live with myself, any longer."

Snape glared at him hatefully. "I'd personally love to kill you if Potter wouldn't keep blocking me. As if she didn't have enough troubles, you son of a…"

"No she-wolves today, my dear friends."

A piercing, screeching, familiar voice rang through the air, like a shot – or a firecracker. For a moment, Amelia thought Severus had somehow retrieved the gun and fired.

No, it was Hermione.

Clapping a hand over his eyes, Snape groaned. If things weren't bad enough, _she_ had to show up. Someone get that gun. Maybe he'd just put it to his own head…

"How the hell did _you_ find us?" Snape demanded.

"It doesn't matter. You pay me to obtain information and I have. And just in the nick of time, if I do say so myself."

"What could you possibly say to make anything better?" Snape groaned.

"Mrs. Snape, you may actually have helped Professor Lupin." Hermione smiled smugly.

"How the hell do you know?" Snape demanded.

"I went on the computer."

"You know that's forbidden and you keep doing it," Snape snapped. "Expel her, Minerva."

"_Witchipedia_ says, and I quote, "Chaos witches have the rare ability, like an anti-venom, to help werewolves and unusual creatures of the night, reverse their curses – or at least gain some modicum of control over them." She grinned proudly.

Lupin's eyes actually gained a bit of life.

Snape's eyes darkened.

Harry shrugged. "He did turn back to a human in a hurry."

Snape scowled. "How the devil did you know she was a chaos witch?"

"I have my _sources_," Hermoine said tightly.

"What sources? You have no sources. Tell me who told you."

"Draco Malfoy, if you must know," she sulked.

"What? I thought he was a reptile, eating grapes."

"Not exactly, but he's a bit weak – so it was the perfect time to question him."

"You went to see him?" Snape asked incredulously.

"Anything for a fee...I mean, feelings... for helping Mrs. Snape feel better about her identity."

Snape was speechless.

"Professor McGonigal and I just got back from visiting him. She was kind enough to reverse the spell, though we had a devil of a time convincing Mrs. Malfoy to go allow it. Ironic..."

"I thought Aunt M was having her hair done," Amelia said in confusion, glancing at Minerva, who just smiled quietly.

"...Malfoy cooperated?" Snape probed. "He despises you."

Hermione flashed a superior smile. "That's as much as you know."

Snape stepped back and straightened his collar, obviously caught way off balance.

Hermione blushed. "Like many of the young men here at school, Draco's always had a thing for me. I told him he could kiss me if he told me what he knew."

"What? You said he could curse you?'"

"You heard me," she giggled. "_Kiss_ me."

"And that…convinced him?" Snape asked incredulously.

"Of course."

"Pardon me. I'm not following you. You actually said…you'd kiss him…and he...agreed?" Snape faltered, still convinced he'd misheard.

"Yes, sir." Hermione's voice became a bit crisp.

"Kiss you? As in, the physical sign of affection?"

Hermione scowled and crossed her arms.

Amelia squelched a smile and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Severus, please."

"Yes, sir, I sold myself for your wife's benefit. I calculate that will cost you seventy-five pounds."

Amelia laughed merrily and hugged Hermione. Snape looked hopelessly baffled.

"We'll make it a hundred," Amelia said warmly.


	80. Author's Post7 Note

_Author's Post- 7 Ranting_

_  
Warning: This mini-chapter is just the author's ranting about Book 7. I'll post more chapters after I stop crying._

_Hey, nothing like a happy ending to wrap up a 7-book children's saga! Good God, I think she wasted more characters than a bad Schwarzenegger flick._

_Hey, JK, don't try to be like Victor Hugo, because you aren't. You aren't that great a writer. Hugo could write sad endings like that because his characters had reached a higher moral or religious plane. But you aren't Victor Hugo. Not by a long shot._

_I, for one, don't buy the asinine ending, and neither should anyone else. Rowling turned Albus into a cold, calculating user, who just manipulated Snape and Harry and everyone else like pawns._

_She made Snape look like some kind of black-garbed Heathcliff, with no principles at all, except, I guess, to defend the memory of Lilly Potter. And, Rowling killed all of her nice secondary characters like shooting fish in a barrel. Was that fun for her? Why the hell would she do that?_

_Kiss my ass, JK Rowling. I'm going ahead with my fanfiction, just as it is. I think there's a little more to Snape than mooning after Lilly. And reducing poor Albus, who died for the cause, to a calculating manipulator is ridiculous._

_By the way, my 14-year-old daughter got bored with it, put it down, and watched her normal TV shows. So should you._

_Love, Adele_


	81. Book 2 Chapter 55

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 55

"So, I suppose you're going to lecture me about the silver bullets," Snape sulked, as he sat by the window and smoked, late that night.

Amelia slipped into his lap and kissed his cheek. "No."

"Oh, go on. I know it's inevitable."

She only laughed. "I happen to think it was very touching; very gallant of you."

He shook his head and blew out a double ring of smoke. She slipped her arms around his shoulders.

"Albus scolded me. He even took the gun," Snape groused.

"That's terrible," Amelia sighed. "He's so unreasonable."

"I've told him a million times to get rid of Lupin. Does he? No. But he reprimands me for doing what anyone in their right mind would do."

"He never listens." She kissed him again.

His lips twisted into a wry smile. "You really aren't upset with me?"

"For what? Defending me against a werewolf? It was sweet of you to want to kill him."

Severus looked over at her and drew her closer. "Sometimes, I actually come close to loving you, Amelia. Just when I think I'm ready to toss you aside, you buy yourself more time."

She only laughed softly and nuzzled his neck. "Well, Albus was a bit put out by the situation, but I think I calmed him down a bit."

"How?"

"I offered to atone by donating a unit or two of my blood, so you could mix an anti-venom, or vaccine or something."

"They'll bleed you dry," he replied drearily.

"I owe it to everyone - to give something back, after all you've done for me."

"You don't owe us a thing."

"I even parlayed it into a discount," she whispered enticingly.

His eyes began to gain life.

"What kind of discount?"

"Just a 75 percent discount on Severus' tuition if I continue to give blood."

"You're a genius." He kissed her softly.

Yet there remained a melancholy tone in his voice; a sad set to his eyes; the thin line of his mouth…that worked in combination to worry her.

"Severus," she said gently, taking his hand. "What's wrong? You're sad, even after I told you about the discount. That's not like you."

Smiling vaguely, he kissed her fingers. "It's nothing," he replied unconvincingly. "Nothing."

"Please tell me," she asked, not believing a word.

He took a breath and looked down at the floor.

"Oh Amelia, I should probably be thrown out of here, just like Remus should be. God, I should be in prison for what I've done."

She paused and kept silent, smiling gently.

"I was in league with the dark lord, my dear. I had more rage than ten werewolves. I wanted a new order in magic; as much as he did."

She nodded. "Did you kill for that? Did you torture anyone?"

He shook his head. "I left, it's true. But I wanted them all dead, Amelia; at least for awhile. I wanted a new group in power – with people like me. People who weren't afraid of new frontiers of magic. Who respected the dark."

"Sounds reasonable to me," she said plainly.

"You should leave me," he said bitterly.

"I should?" she asked wryly. "Why?"

"Weren't you listening?"

"No. Not really. I don't when you get like this."

Smiling tiredly, he kissed her.

"You think you're so unique?" she asked. "I've definitely wanted to kill certain doctors I've worked with – not to mention my own father. There have been times I've wanted to blow up the whole hospital. I didn't. Neither did you."

"I got damned close."

"Not so close. You left when things were getting out of control. You defected. Remember that, as Minos said."

He smiled and closed his tired eyes.

"You know, Amelia, I do a little spying here and there for the ministry. Now that we know a bit more about your powers; how you can deflect things…maybe you can help me."

Smiling radiantly, she nodded. "There's nothing I'd like more. But we can't even beat my father. How will we ever go up against Voldemort?"

"Amelia, don't ever say that word."

"Oh, sorry. Why is it that we can't say his name? We say _Satan_, or _Beelzebub_. "

His eyes clouded. "You and your incessant questions."

He took her hands in his and kissed them.

"Let's go, together," he said with conviction. "Let's face the blackguard. My God, it was probably him who tainted Lupin's potion. If it weren't for your chaos power, you'd be a werewolf now, and Lupin would be on trial."

She blinked away a few tears of regret and his face became even more firm.

"We have no place here until this is settled. Let's go. Let's go face him, and at least finish this damned thing."

She nodded. "All right. Let's go."


	82. Book 2 Chapter 56

Book 2 Chapter 56

"She was a beautiful, compassionate, endearing, beautiful, pretty young woman who was taken away, far too young, I admit by my own curse; my own…paw," Remus sobbed, standing at the pulpit at Our Lady of Hogsmead.

"Amelia was everything you could want in a woman. Kind, humorous, loyal, trustworthy, did I say pretty? Oh God, I can't believe I killed her. May I die a thousand deaths. May I burn in the lake of fire for all eternity…"

Minerva's eyes rolled, luckily hidden beneath her black crepe, but Albus still gave her a hasty nudge.

"Oh yes, and Snape," Remus said off-handedly. "Well, we all knew him, didn't we. Sorry I killed him. Oh, may I have his classroom, headmaster? It's far roomier than mine…"

"All right, Remus, thank you so much for your touching eulogy. We all know it wasn't your fault." Albus waved him down.

Dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief, Lupin took his place beside Professor Trelawney, who gave him an irritated glance.

Harry approached the pulpit, holding the baby, and cleared his throat.

"Today, we remember Mrs. Snape…and Professor Snape. Mrs. Snape was a breath of fresh air to our school: loyal, dedicated, magical in her own way. I will miss her terribly, but at least I have her beloved son to keep me company. And, Mrs. Snape, if you can hear me…I will rear him in the best tradition of _Gryffindor _– so that he may belong to the best house in the school and achieve his _Gryffindor_ destiny, with his fellow _Gryffindors_."

Snape clapped his hands to his temples and gnashed his teeth, bit his lip, bit his hand…anything to keep from jumping from beneath the invisibility cloak, running up to the altar, and tearing Potter limb from limb.

"He does this, you know," Snape whispered to Amelia. "He does this to torture me. Why did you choose him to be the godfather? You're in league with you-know-who. I know it."

Amelia just kissed him.

Harry smiled in their direction.

"Yes, my fellow students and teachers, and expecially Professor Lupin, it was too bad old Snape _botched_ the potion. It's really his fault they're dead when you think about it…but, well, he didn't mean to. Snape was getting on in years and made a tiny mistake…that cost them their lives. Oh, headmaster…may I have a look in Snape's potions closet? I could really use a few liters of…"

Albus scowled deeply and tried to give Harry a menacing look. Taking the cue, Harry stepped down.

"She was really pretty, and nice," Neville, next in line, said, sniffling. "Oh, and Professor Snape. Yes, I'll pray for him."

"She was really pretty and sweet," Ron, next in a long line of boys, added. "Headmaster, I'd like a look at his closet, too."

Snape's eyes rolled. Albus sighed angrily.

"She was the nicest teacher Hogwarts has ever seen," Crabb said brokenly. "Oh yes, and Professor Snape…might I have his jar of lizard tongues, headmaster?"

"She was so incredibly sweet and kind and beautiful and I can't believe she's gone. She made potions bearable, and I will miss her so much…" Neville, back around, sobbed.

"I liked her dress," said Ginny, sniffling.

"She was a great mum," noted Cho Chang.

"She helped me figure out the potions calculations without screaming at me," said Neville (back in line).

"Excuse me…" Hermoine waved her hand in the air. "I'd like to say a few words." She hurried to the altar. Albus groaned to himself.

"Oh God, no," Snape muttered, kneeling under the invisibility cloak beside Amelia, up in the gallery. Amelia just sputtered with laughter and covered her mouth with her hands.

Dressed in ridiculous billows of black crepe, with a full mourning headdress to boot, Hermione approached the pulpit and ceremoniously adjusted the microphone.

"First of all, I'd like to say that Hogwarts is enduring a tremendous loss. Professor Snape was my favorite teacher and, as his favorite student, I will miss him terribly. I've prepared a brief eulogy on his behalf."

Snape's mouth fell open in shock. Amelia was hyperventilating with bottled-up laughter.

"Although I often thought he was harsh with me; as it turned out, he was only masking the true respect and, well, probably awe, he felt for me."

Yawning, Harry leaned back in the pew, staring hopelessly at the ceiling.

"Yes, it was only a few weeks ago, a routine day in a routine potions class, when I found out the truth, though I'd always suspected. He said that I was his best student. His brightest. Oh, Professor Snape, I am so sorry that you couldn't live to see me graduate and achieve my magical destiny. But I will achieve it…and you will see it, from your great cauldron in the sky."

"Oh my heavens," Minerva murmured. "What a mistake I made using that polyjuice potion."

Hermione dabbed a tear from the corner of her eyes.

"And, as for his wife, Mrs. Snape – I will miss her terribly. Though her magic was lackluster, she did manage to put him in a tolerable mood. Perhaps, without her influence, Professor Snape would not have opened up as he finally did, when he admitted how gifted a student I was..."

"Thank you, Miss Granger. That will be all." Albus nudged her. "Very nice. Thank you. You may take your seat."

Hermione merely edged away from him. "So, I plan to dedicate my major field of study – my expertise – to potions. Because Professor Snape said I was such a prodigy…I will give that tribute to him and that gift to the world – and follow the potions path in his memory."

"Yes, all right, very good. Thank you, Miss Granger," Albus said, a bit more forcefully.

Then Albus stood back at the pulpit and sighed. "All right then, it's been an emotional time for us. I'm sorry we've lost one, I mean, two…two of the greatest human beings to grace the grounds of the school. We'll pray for them, and for our loss. Very good, then. Back to class. Dismissed."

"But headmaster, don't we get the day off? You know, to mourn them?" Crabb said hopefully.

"Yes, I need to mourn," Goyle added, hopefully.

"Isn't there a lunch? I was hoping for a lunch…" Hermoine added.

Albus looked at the large, characteristically somber portrait of Snape that graced the altar.

"No, children. Professor Snape would want you to attend class this afternoon. We must honor that memory."

Groans and complaints rumbled through the sanctuary, and the mourners began to file out.


	83. Book 2 Chapter 57

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 57

Neville was just sitting.

Hunched over, at the base of a huge old tree, he was staring at his shoes, the grass, his hands, anything and nothing at all.

He'd cut classes for his first time. Why he was nervous about it, he didn't know. Would anyone even notice? Who cared, anyway? He was invisible to most teachers. To almost everyone, for that matter. And now, the one lady who'd ever _seen_ him, had ever given him any credit for being alive, was dead. Dead and gone, as quickly as she'd arrived.

How could she be dead? Hadn't she just been grading papers a few days before, smiling and laughing, blushing at Professor Snape, giggling with her baby?

Leaning against the trunk of the tree, he closed his eyes and struggled to make sense of his life. What was he even here for? What difference did he make…to anyone?

From behind, a delicate hand fell on his shoulder. He started and glanced quickly up, to see Amelia, kneeling beside him – or at least half of her, from the waist up. The rest was invisible.

She wore that black blouse he was so used to seeing, and never looked more radiant. An angel, come from heaven, to talk to him?

"Mrs. Snape?" he gasped.

She nodded, putting a finger to her lips to signal him to stay quiet.

"Yes, Neville, it's me," she whispered. "I can't stand to watch you suffer. I'm not dead, but you must promise not to tell a soul."

His face lit up as if he'd been given a second lease on life, and she gathered the cloak around her. His eyes glittered with tears that he fought to push back.

"Are you an angel?" he asked in a whisper, still half-believing he was dreaming.

Laughing, she shook her head.

"I'm alive, same as you, but I'm going away for a short time. I'll be back, and things will be better for everyone here. We have problems to solve, but we will solve them. I won't leave you."

He managed a weak smile and brushed a stray tear away, hoping she didn't see it.

Arranging herself beside him, so only her face appeared in his direction, she smiled gently.

"You said such sweet things at the funeral, I hadn't the heart to leave without letting you know. But you must keep this secret, Neville."

"I will. Thank you for telling me," he faltered. "I'm glad you're all right, ma'am."

She laughed softly. "Yes, I certainly am, and so is Professor Snape. But…if you want us to stay that way, you cannot tell a soul."

"I promise. I swear."

She nodded and took his hand and squeezed it.

"You know, Neville, when I came to Hogwarts, I was more dead than alive. My mother had died; my father had left us…I hadn't any hope left. I felt like a dead person; or at least that it wouldn't make a difference to anyone if I were dead. But then, I met Professor Snape, and made more friends…like you and Harry. And your kindness and acceptance made me feel like I had a chance. Like I had hope. You made a difference, Neville."

"Oh, it's nothing, ma'am," he said, blushing.

"No. You really did. I have a sense you feel unwanted sometimes, too – the way I did. Just know, that you do have people who care about you, and value you."

He smiled and looked down.

"Your parents…Severus told me about them. We're so sorry about what happened."

He tensed. "Yes. Thank you, ma'am."

She looked down. "You know, I can never, ever fill your mother's shoes; and Severus couldn't replace your father, but…I still want you to think of us as your family."

His eyes widened. She couldn't tell if it were in horror or pleasure. She smiled again, as if to seal her words.

"Yes. I mean it. You can come to us for anything: a problem, help with homework, advice on a sweetheart…anytime."

"Even Professor Snape, ma'am?"

"Well, see me for the homework, just to be safe. But, Neville, don't sell him short. He'd die for any one of you. Remember that. Just…don't listen to him."

Neville actually lost much of the strain in his eyes, and smiled in incredible relief.

"And, you keep an eye on things around here for us. If anything suspicious happens, go straight to Professor Dumbledore, all right?"

Neville nodded firmly. Laughing, she put her arms around him and hugged him, while he blushed a medium shade of purple.


	84. Book 2 Chapter 58

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 58

The journey to Hogsmead Station was rainy, muddy and rough, as the hearse jounced along, pulled by two Clydesdales, outfitted in full, funeral regalia.

The two ebony coffins lay side by side inside the glass enclosure, as everyone plodded onward, mile after mile.

Many of the students trudged drearily beside the hearse, while Harry, Severus Jr., Albus, Minerva and Remus rode in a coach just ahead.

"This is too sad," Minerva sighed, dabbing the corner of her eye. "I hate this. I just hate it."

"This is the best way, Minerva," Albus said gently. "Everyone will see this. Even, and most especially…her father. Then, we can catch him off-guard."

"I still wish there were some other way," she murmured. "Death and funerals…oh lord, it's all too sad…"

"It's better than a real one," Albus answered softly, but pointedly. "He was getting too close. Have you the instructions, Harry?"

"Yes, sir," Harry answered softly. "Topeka Memorial Gardens, plot 455. Next to Anna Garrett."

"You're all right with the baby?"

"Oh yes, sir. We're great friends."

"Tonight, you all stay in Diagnon Mortuary, Number 45 on the main road. They'll be expecting you. Tomorrow, the coffins will be transported to Heathrow. Everything is arranged."

"Yes, sir."

"An obituary has been sent to the Topeka newspapers. Their burial is set for Friday. All the arrangements have been made. Severus knows what to do."

"Yes, headmaster."

The coach began slowing down as they approached Hogsmead Station.

"Good luck, Harry. Our prayers will be with you – and I will be watching you."

"Thank you, sir."

"Try to bring him back for a hearing. If you can't, kill him."

"Yes, sir."

The caskets were removed from the hearse and loaded into the train, draped in black crepe.

Squaring his shoulders, Harry picked up the baby and headed toward his compartment, waving good bye amid the steam.

---

"I can't sleep," Amelia said glumly, sitting up in her coffin, as the clock struck midnight in the mortuary.

"I can't, either," Snape answered, propping himself up on his elbow. "Never can without sex."

She laughed. "It's…just…I've never slept apart from you before," she sniffled. "It's not right. I can't do it."

"Well, I don't see how we…"

But he was too late. She'd already crawled out of her coffin and tumbled into his with a thud, knocking the wind out of him.

He chuckled and ran a hand through her hair. "Amelia…Amelia, what am I to do?"

She smiled playfully. "I'm just used to you. Your body and your heartbeat and your warmth and your kisses and your breath, and…all the hair on your chest." She dissolved into self-conscious laughter.

"Yes, I know. You've rubbed it raw."

Her eyes danced, as she slipped her hand beneath his shirt and rested it over his heart.

"Well, Amelia, it's hard on me, too. How can I use you when the mood strikes me, if you're in a separate coffin?"

"That's very true," she answered, laughing and kissing his cheek.

"I suppose you aren't half bad to sleep with. I mean, compared to the legions of women I've had, you don't rank badly."

"What a relief," she said, glowing.

"Your hair smells rather nice, and you're warm, and you have soft hands."

"Oh Severus," she whispered. "I'm glad you like them."

"I like your breasts best, of course…but it's not so bad when you kiss me and sort of wrap yourself around me like you do, and did I mention your breasts?"

She laughed merrily and nestled her head against his neck. "I love you so much," she whispered. "So much."

"I must admit you've tossed me a few crumbs of happiness along our troubled, turbulent, wrong, stormy, cursed relationship."

"I really try," she answered, smiling up to him.

He slipped his arms around her and kissed her as tenderly as he ever had. "I don't like seeing you in a coffin, no matter how alive you are."

"Severus, let's be buried together," she whispered. "In the same coffin. I can't be dead without you."

"Nobody's going to die, Amelia," he said softly.

"Please." She kissed him again and again. "Please, please let's be buried together."

"Of course," he whispered. "A coffin for two. I promise."

"Thank you," she murmured in relief, hugging him tightly.

"I know what will get your mind off death, at least for a few hours."

"What?"

"Want to do something really bad?" he asked temptingly.

"Really?" she replied eagerly. "You mean, like using that Valentine's chocolate again? I actually brought some in my overnight case."

"Well, perhaps later, but something really wicked. I've been thinking about it; actually doing a bit of plotting. Oh God, it would be so much fun, Amelia."

"What?" she begged.

"It involves a revolting little family named the Dursleys."

He leaned forward and whispered his plan into her ear.

Bursting into delighted laughter, she kissed him again and again.

"You're a genius."


	85. Chapter 2A

_Hi everyone. I was just having fun with this chapter. It would go in the first book, of course, but see what you think. It was just for fun. Love, Adele_

CHAPTER 2A

Once again, Amelia sat beside Snape in the dining hall, trying to stay awake but having a hard time of it. A couple of times, he nudged her, as her head began to lean to one side and her eyelids started to droop.

Struggling to dream up an excuse to leave, she could find none. She'd already plead a headache, but he somehow could tell she was lying. Perhaps she'd just slash her wrists and be done with it. Just pick up the knife…slash her wrists? Why would she do that? Why would she think of such a thing? Amelia, really, stop it.

Hundreds of students had filed into the benches, whispering and pointing in anticipation.

In the front of the hall, a crumpled, dusty hat was displayed on a podium – apparently the center of all the attention. Why on earth a hat would garner so much attention, she had no idea. It was just an old, worn hat. What the hell did it have to do with anything?

"I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed," she attempted, but he scowled.

"It's too early."

"I'm fighting the time zones."

"Nonsense. It's noon back in Kansas."

She shrugged tiredly. "This is a private affair. I have no right to be here. I should go."

"Private?" he drawled. "Hundreds of students do this every year. It's as public as we get."

She didn't want to smile, but the lilt in his voice made it impossible not to.

"I…don't like big crowds," she again attempted.

"Oh, really? Then back to the closets you'll go."

"I mean…I like working with you, sir. But not huge groups…"

"You like working with me? My God, are you ill?"

She laughed softly and looked down so he wouldn't see her blush.

"This is an important night, Miss Garrett. Do you know what the hat is about to do?" he asked.

"No."

"It will sort the students into our four different houses."

She laughed. "It's just a hat."

"It tells all of us who we are, and where we belong."

"Where you _belong_?"

"You know…what house is most appropriate for us."

"The hat tells you that?"

He bristled. "Yes."

She pondered for a moment while his lips became increasingly thin with impatience.

"You let a hat judge you? You let a piece of cloth tell you who you are?" she continued in disbelief. "Professor, you are so much more than anything a hat could say…"

"Spare me the philosophy tonight. Please."

"Why don't you reflect; or meditate upon who you are?"

"Because the hat's faster."

Perhaps it was fatigue, or just the humor, but she melted into delighted giggles and he actually smiled for an instant.

"So, what are these different houses?" she asked curiously.

"Well, Slytherin is the supreme house; and the house for which I am head. We're the brave, innovative, shrewd, intelligent, clever and realistic group."

"Of course," she said thoughtfully.

"And then there are the Hufflepuffs."

She smiled at the mere word.

"They're faithful, stolid, perseverant, rather bumbling at times but good at heart."

"I see."

"And the Ravenclaws, who really just aspire to be Slytherins. Filled with envy, mostly"

She smiled wryly.

"And then…the worst of the bunch. Gryffindor. Avoid them whenever possible. They're arrogant, know-it-alls; temperamental, scheming, trouble-making, conniving and underhanded."

"Do we really have to sit through 200 sorts?"

"I'll admit it is tedious."

"You know what? I'll bet I could sort them inside of 30 minutes. I'm very good with first impressions. I'll bet I can."

"I'll bet you can't."

"All right. What shall we bet?"

The sentence was said innocently enough, but suddenly a silence fell between them like a lead balloon. He cleared his throat and adjusted his collar. She examined her cuticles.

"What shall we bet?" he needled, his eyes beginning to glitter.

"Hmmm," she needled in return. "A day off?"

"No. I need you in class. You're good at paperwork."

"Well, how about a nice perfume. You could mix me one."

"Out of the question. You insult my expertise."

"Oh, pardon me. Well, what about…a kiss?"

"Whom shall I kiss?" he teased.

She laughed and blushed.

"You?" he scoffed. "That would be unprofessional. Besides, you're ugly."

She laughed all the more. She'd caught him glancing at her once or twice – and loved to make her eyes big and sloppy around him because it seemed to shake him up just a bit.

"And, if I win the bet?" His voice was a bit of a drawl.

She smiled. "Then, of course, you don't have to kiss me."

She thought he'd be relieved, but his smile faded just a bit. Into something just a bit sad – or regretful.

Suddenly she wanted to cry. She'd hurt him and she hadn't meant to. She thought it would be a relief to him. God, Amelia…anything but that. Hadn't he had enough of that for three lifetimes? Just go get a razor. You're no good. No good to anyone. Stop it. Stop thinking like that, Amelia.

She laid her hand over his. "I'm sorry, sir. If you win the bet…I'll organize another closet."

It was lame and lifeless, and she sighed. Then she just pushed back her chair.

"I'm tired and out of line. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Please…don't leave," he said urgently. "I'll take the bet."

Her eyes began to regain a bit of life. "Really?"

"Yes," he sighed. "If I win, you have to…kiss me."

She smiled in delight, and they both broke into laughter.

"All right," she said. "Here goes."

---

A half hour later, he was speechless.

"I don't understand," he managed, pouring himself a large goblet of wine and downing it in two gulps.

"Neither do I."

"But, how did you do it?'

She shrugged. "Who knows? I can do these silly things, professor; but I can't brew a simple potion to save my life."

"You guessed them all, Miss Garrett.Who the devil are you?"

She shrugged. "And then, there's you…"

His expression froze. "I-I haven't the slightest interest in your opinion of me."

"You're mostly Slytherin, but…"

His eyes were sharp as a hawk's. "But what? I am a Slytherin. Stop this nonsense."

"You also have strong Hufflepuff traits, sir. You're very faithful."

His eyes narrowed hatefully, and she shivered and looked down.

"Who the hell told you these lies?" he hissed. "No one knows this. No one."

She smiled. "I can just tell. Like that girl over there with Harry, who always calls out in your classes. She's Gryffindor, but a bit of a Ravenclaw, as well. You see how the hat oversimplifies?"

He lit a cigarette with shaking hands. "You'd better not tell a soul about the Hufflepuff business, or I'll poison your soup."

"I only eat the salads. Besides, your secret's safe with me. I'm good at keeping secrets."

"No, you're not. You talk far too much."

"Only to you."

"Well, go make friends."

She folded her arms as a chill ran through her. "I have."

"Who?" He seemed to stiffen and his jaw tightened as he watched her every move.

"You, professor."

"Oh, for God's sake. I knew you were going to say that."

"I hope I'm not being unprofessional, but you'll never know how grateful I am to you. I realize you prefer to work alone – and how they strapped you with me. But you're so kind about it."

"I get a slight bonus in pay."

"And your classes are fascinating. I attended Professor Trelawney's class the other day. I'm sorry, but I couldn't make heads or tails of it."

He laughed heartily and so did she.

"Oh Amelia, I'm the sorriest excuse for a friend you'll ever have. I won't do anything for you."

"Of course not."

"We're clear on that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Let's get the kiss out of the way. Pretend to drop your napkin. I'll see you under the table."

She smiled and blushed deeply. "Oh, you don't have to. I know you…oh, there goes my napkin…"

They both stooped down to retrieve it, and he put his hands on her shoulders and drew her close. Naturally, she looked up into his eyes, and then, they kissed.

It was soft and sweet and deep. And it lasted five minutes.


	86. 2Chap59

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 59

"We were in the neighborhood, and thought we'd stop in for a bit of tea." Amelia's flat voice pierced the darkness of the Dursley's bedroom like a novocaine needle through soft gum tissue.

Their bedroom door suddenly crashed to the floor. It didn't open. It didn't creak. It crashed.

The two occupants of the bed jerked up like twin springboards.

The woman cried out in fear, and the man grappled with his glasses to see.

"Hello, old friends." Snape's voice was low and wonderfully scary.

Both Snape and Amelia floated in the air, thanks to a last-minute floating potion he'd cooked up to make them look more like ghosts. (Amelia had applied lots of mascara to her eyes, just like the old days, and had to admit, she liked the look)

"Oh my God..." Petunia managed. "Severus Snape?"

"Yes, my dear Petunia. Back from the grave to pay you a call. Unfinished business, you might say."

There was a heavy silence.

"Get out," Petunia hissed, with absolutely no fear, which surprised Amelia just a bit.

"Oh, no. We'd like a nice long visit," Snape drawled. "You see, your beloved stepson, Harry, is very close to us. We've been longing to see his childhood home."

"Get out, I said," Petunia hissed.

Amelia, who had also lopped a reluctant python around her neck for effect, just laughed.

"I can't wait to see the nurturing environment Harry grew up in," she said sarcastically.

Petunia threw on her robe.

"I'd love to see his bedroom," Amelia said.

"Yes, and all of his things," Snape added darkly.

Shaking with fear and anger, Petunia glared at them, not sure of what she was seeing, or imagining. Vernon just threw the covers over his head.

"And I want to meet his dear cousin and stepbrother," Amelia added, petting the python's head.

"Give me a tour of your charming home, Petunia. I insist. I'm fascinated to see where my son's _godfather _grew up, now that we're dead and he'll be caring for our dear son."  
Petunia, shaking and eyes glittering, got to her feet and slid her boney  
feet into her slippers.  
"I want to see Harry's room most," Snape added. "We respect him so much. He's such a  
wonderful person. I'm sure he had an idyllic life here."  
"Well, er, Harry stayed up in...what's now our sewing room. I converted it  
during his term at school," Petunia stammered, leading them to the foot of the steps. "Look if you wish. Just don't awaken Dudley."  
Snape glanced at the small door beneath the stairs and yanked it open.  
The old pillows and sheets were still there, as were various drawings and a  
few photographs. The smell was musty, close and dusty. Amelia's heart sank in a combination of disgust and disbelief.  
"You liar," Snape hissed. "You forced him to sleep under the stairs in this chicken  
coop."  
"Did he _tell_ you that?" Petunia asked, a dangerous edge to her voice.  
Amelia, hearing the underlying threat, at once backed down. "He told us nothing. I…had a vision."  
Somehow, this woman should have been more frightened and she wasn't. Amelia's forehead creased in concern.

"He told you, all right," Petunia said. "We'll...correct...him for that. He's always making up  
stories about his childhood, trying to make his uncle and I into  
monsters, when he's the _freak_."  
That word. That awful word. It grated on Amelia's last nerve. It pierced everything else. Her father had used it a few times. Lord, if she never heard it again, it would be too soon.

"I seem to recall that you once called my husband a freak; along with  
your own sister," Amelia said in icy politeness.   
Petunia said nothing and stood, frozen.  
"Jealousy is a terrible sin, Petunia," Amelia said. "And that's all you were - jealous.  
Now you're going to spend every night in this horrid stairwell, until we  
say you don't have to."  
Petunia laughed horribly. "Look at you – defending my sister - the love  
of your husband's life. How pathetic."  
Amelia wasn't expecting that. Neither was Snape. Both of them stood, speechless, before Petunia, who at once knew she'd gained a foothold. Good God, this woman was sparring with ghosts and winning. Suddenly, it wasn't quite so fun. Maybe it would be good to leave.

"You fool," Petunia repeated. "He loved Lilly. Two freaks. Two outcasts. Embarrassments. _Abominations_..."  
Amelia began to charge her, but Severus grabbed her around the waist and  
pulled her back.  
"What?" Amelia gasped, arms flailing in the air. "What did you say?"  
Snape and the python looked on in horror.  
Petunia's eyes were narrow slits. "I said, your husband loved another freak. And he'd drop you like a sour apple if Lilly were alive. Oh, I wish you all would just go to your graves and leave  
us in peace."  
Amelia's eyes blazed in fury. Snape's face turned ashen.  
"Don't listen to her, Amelia," Snape urged. "She's a liar. A bitter,  
muggle liar who couldn't stand that her sister was magically gifted."   
"You'll listen to me because I'm telling the truth," Petunia laughed harshly. "And you, Severus, she despised you. She only spoke to you out of pity. She thought you were pathetic; a pathetic loser."  
Snape paused. Amelia's eyes filled with tears. Tears of pity for him; tears  
of rage; tears of anxiety that Petunia was right…so many tears.  
"Did you hear me, Severus? She pitied you."  
"Yes, I was an _abomination_," he said quietly."How helpful you are tonight."  
"Just get out of my house. Go back to that graveyard of outcasts you came from."  
"Oh, we're not going there. We're going to Kansas, to be buried alongside Amelia's mother - Minerva's sister. You remember Minerva, don't you?"

"No."

"Oh, I think you do. I think you're very connected to this."

A wand was shoved deep into Petunia's throat.

"My God, you're the link," Snape said in disbelief. "All these months of suspecting Draco.or Lucius. Good God..."

Petunia tried to remain stoic, but failed as pride twisted her lips into a smile.

"Tell me, how long have you been helping him?" Snape hissed.

Petunia gargled and sputtered and found herself pinned against the wall.

"I'll do it, Petunia. I will," he said.

"If he won't, I will," Amelia added.

"You're both pathetic and I thank God you're dead. Freaks, all of you. You ruin everything you touch."

Amelia stepped back a step, but the python hissed and tried to strike at Petunia.

"Your father knows this," Petunia drawled, glaring at Amelia. "He's the only one with sense. I'm proud I helped him. I'm glad."

Snape laughed bitterly. "He's a deatheater, you fool. He used you; used your own hatred against you."

Petunia's eyes clouded. Snape smiled cruelly.  
"He's a Deatheater; a wizard of some sort. He's been harrassing us, and now I know how. How a simpleton like you got in over her head and succumbed to his lies."

Petunia opened her mouth in protest, but it was too late.

Poof! She was a mouse.

Chomp. Down the python's throat she went.


	87. Book 2 Chapter 60

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 60

"Did you love her?"

Amelia lay in her coffin, fighting off oceans of tears that threatened, as the plane headed west.

"Well…"

"Did you love her a _lot_?"

"I…"

"Did you ever _kiss_ her?"

"No."

"Did you ever _make love_ to her?"

"Oh yes, along with legions of other girls who were standing in line."

"Did you think she was _pretty_?"

"Well, yes."

"Prettier than me?"

"Whoever said you were…"

Nearby, in his cage, Lupin growled menacingly at Snape.

"You're the fairest of them all," Snape backpedaled.

"Did you love her more than me?"

"Oh, Amelia - no. Please stop this."

"Ten percent less?"

"How the devil can I answer that?"

"Five percent more?"

"For God's sake, it's not a Gringotts ledger. Really, Amelia, I never knew you had such a jealousy streak. Chin up. Second best isn't so bad. You'll do."

She knew it was a joke, but squeezed her eyes shut to avoid the waterfall of tears that was about to spew forth. But her eyelid muscles were worn out. Bursting into sobs, she turned over and buried her face in the satin pillow. The pythons rolled their eyes.

"Oh God, she was the love of your life. She truly was. Oh, my…" She dissolved.

Snape's eyes were red and weary. "Lord, I wish that snake hadn't regurgitated Petunia. She got what she deserved when he swallowed her."

Amelia was truly beside herself. He knew he'd better act fast if the plane was to stay in tact.

Remus, having used his Amelia-given powers to change himself into a wolf (primarily to save plane fare), paced back and forth, and snarled at Snape, shaking his head in disgust.

"Well, our little prank certainly backfired in a dozen ways," Snape murmured. "My dear…I won't lie to you. I loved Lilly, but she didn't love me and she married a man I despised. It was all rather depressing. And then you came along."

"Yes?"

"And then, well, I don't know what happened."

"What do you mean?"

"I felt as if I were hit by a train, or a tidal wave. Yes, a tidal wave."

Remus barked ferociously at him. Snape scowled, covered the cage with a tarp and turned back to Amelia.

"What I'm trying to say is…meeting you; loving you – gave me the courage to admit that Lilly only pitied me. I cared for her, but it was rather unrequited. With you, it was requited ten times over. So what we had grew and grew into this enormous mountain of…something."

"Something?"

He raked a hand through his hair. "Damn it, I don't know how to say these things. I just…don't know."

Amelia finally managed to smile. "We probably can't put it into words. I don't need any further explanation."

He took her hands in his. "Just know, I thank God every day that you bothered with me. You are the one, Amelia. You, and no other."

The snakes rolled their eyes again. Beneath the tarp, Remus whimpered and put his head between his paws.

It must be killing Severus to be saying all of this, she thought, and smiled gently.

"You're the love of my life, Severus."

He smiled. "I'd guessed that."

"But…you never have to tell me again. I understand."

"Then why the hell did you force me to say it?"

She only laughed merrily and climbed into his coffin.


	88. Book 2 Chapter 61

_BOOK 2 CHAPTER 61_

Kansas

As Nancy rounded the corner of the hospital garage, late the following evening, a hand clamped around her throat and shoved her against the retaining wall.

Something, or things, heavy, long and cool dropped down, around her shoulders and began constricting, pinning her arms to her sides. At the same time, a sharp, pointed object began digging into her windpipe.

"I knew you looked familiar," Severus' deep voice seethed. "_Nancy_. How quaint. What a common little name for a not-so-common woman."

Her mouth fell open in shock.

"And you dared fire insinuating remarks at my wife that morning in that horrid little diner."

Nancy choked and gasped and struggled to free herself, but the python's grip only tightened around her every move.

"Severus Snape," she sputtered bitterly.

"It's been ages, hasn't it."

"Let me go," she sputtered. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Tell me why you're here in the great state of Kansas. If you say you're living your dream, I'll kill you."

"You're insane," she whispered, gasping for breath. "You're the same maniac you always were. And now you're married to as crazy a lunatic as you."

"Lunacy has its benefits, like not caring what means one uses to reach one's ends. That's my particular favorite."

"Let me go," she hissed.

He moved in so close their noses nearly touched.

"The ministry's inquisitors very much want a word with you. Why don't we pay them a visit. No doubt, they'll have creative ways of refreshing your memory."

Her eyes widened in horror. He only smiled, and watched her lips began to go blue as the pythons' constriction tightened.

"Calm down," she managed. "And tell these snakes to let go."

"Oh, I'm cool as a cucumber. And I'm not going to tell them anything, just yet."

She struggled to get a breath.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "You have ten seconds until you go through a port key to the tribunal."

Nancy's eyes darted in horror, back and forth – while the snakes tightened their grip.

"…I don't know anything."

"Eight seconds."

Partly from lack of oxygen, she began to tremble, while her eyelids began to droop.

"He wanted me to watch her," she gasped. "To keep an eye on her. That's all I know. He tells me nothing."

"Who is _he_? Surely not the dark lord."

Just for a split second, Nancy shook her head, and all of the color had drained from her face. She looked like death. Or, rather, someone dead who was still walking.

"Who?" he persisted.

"Her father, you idiot."

"Her father? Why the hell does he want to watch her? The blackguard abandoned her."

Nancy began to collapse for lack of air. Hastily, Snape nodded to the pythons, who reluctantly released her, just an inch or two.

"I don't know what he did," she managed. "He forced me to watch her."

"Forced you?"

Nancy looked down. "We were…_together_ for awhile. Stupidly, I told him things I shouldn't have. Things he could use against me. So I agreed to help him with his daughter."

Snape's mouth opened but no words came. This kept getting worse and worse.

Nancy's eyes flickered angrily. "Do you think I like working in this horrid hospital, day after day? It was bad enough watching Amelia, but when she left, her father turned…rabid. A complete fanatic."

"My heart bleeds for you."

"Please, Severus, I know no more than that. Give me the veritaserum if you don't believe me."

"Why would he be interested in Amelia? She's a magical nightmare. He thought of her – and her mother - as abominations."

Nancy smiled ironically. "Ask him."

Raking his hands through his hair, Snape could only shake his head.

"He told me to watch her; to report to him what she was doing. What her mother was doing. When her mother died, and Amelia left…he disappeared."

"Not before he locked Amelia into a mental institution – no doubt hoping she'd rot there."

"So what? It's probably the best place for her."

His lips formed a tight, horrible smile.

"Let me remind you, you're only alive because of the information you offer me. If you prefer to insult my wife, I'll kill you and avoid wasting more time."

"You? Kill me? You have the power of a six-year-old. Draco Malfoy cast a …"

"So, you know about that. How interesting." The wand dug deeper into her windpipe. "What a happy little clique you all are. But I don't like cliques. Never have. This one is over."

"You'll never prevail over him," she whispered. "She's a chaos witch. She has to be stopped. And you're too weak now. You'll never…"

From around the corner, another figure appeared, wearing a dark cape and carrying a wand.

Her eyes widened in horror as she recognized Harry.

"Good evening, ma'am; professor," he greeted them both calmly as if he were meeting them for tea.

Snape's mouth dropped open in shock, and his eyes filled with a mixture of incredulity, exasperation, gratitude and resentment.

"Harry Potter?" she whispered in a weak gasp.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Potter?" Snape exclaimed. "Go at once, before anyone sees you."

"I have my cloak for that, sir. I felt it was my duty to follow you."

"Why?" Snape demanded.

"Family duty, sir."

Speechless, Snape could only stare at him in stupefaction – but dared not protest.

Harry smiled and turned back toward Nancy.

"I'm his son's godfather, so I'm honor-bound to protect them both."

"No. Just the baby," Snape said bitterly.

Harry smiled. "I have to protect you too, or I'm not doing my full duty."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not. If you die, then the baby will be sad, and so I must extend my amazing powers to you."

"Can't you just…go back to your hotel or something?" Snape's eyes rolled.

Nancy gaped at both of them as if they had just turned into twin hippogriffs.

"I can compensate for any temporary lapses in his power, right professor?" Harry said evenly.

"Well, I wouldn't say…oh I suppose," Snape muttered.

Nancy's eyes glittered like a trapped panther's. "Don't listen to his lies, Harry. You don't know what he's capable of. He's a horrible man."

"We know that, ma'am. But we still like him."

Her face totally blanched. Snape sighed irritably and crossed his arms.

"As Professor Snape said, tell us what you know or we'll kill you. Or send you to the tribunal. Your choice. Don't you agree, Professor?"

For the first time in their history, Snape stared at Harry as if he'd done something right. Harry merely grinned.

"And please don't insult Mrs. Snape again."

"You know her?" Nancy asked dryly.

Harry nodded. "I would like to think so. She's lovely. Far out of Professor Snape's league, but she likes black and, well, he's the king of that, now isn't he."

Nancy was beginning to slump down the side of the wall. "I don't know anything else. I only reported to him what she was doing – which was nothing, except nursing and walking through corn fields and tending to her mother."

"Where is he?" Snape demanded.

"He's here, you idiot, at the hospital. Didn't she tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"He's a doctor. A psychiatrist. How do you think she got admitted so quickly?"

Snape nodded quietly. Harry's eyes clouded.

"From now on, you report to me," Snape told her. "Any change in his routine. Any new plans – and I know at once. I have ways of making sure you obey."

Nodding brokenly, she looked down. With a nod from Snape, the pythons loosened their grip and slithered away from her. Nancy hurried off into the darkness.


	89. Book 2 Chapter 62

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 62

Silent and thoughtful, Amelia crunched into the window seat of their safe-house, late that night, holding a sleeping Severus Jr. tightly against her chest.

Peering out the window about every ten seconds, she sighed in frustration. When would they get back? And what were they doing at the hospital, anyway?

The door opened and Remus stepped inside, walking up beside her and folding his arms.

"Hello, Amelia," he said quietly. "They're still not back?"

She smiled faintly. "No. No, they're not. I feel terrible. They're going through all of this danger…for me. And who am I? I have no history with them; they don't even really know if I'm worth the trouble…"

He cleared his throat. "Yes. Well, nobody really knows anybody else. Not really, anyway."

She looked out of the window, hoping to find something nice, but only seeing rain and fog.

"You're still worried about the whole _Lilly _issue, aren't you?" he asked gently.

Blinking away a few tears, she nodded and buried her lips in the baby's hair.

"Amelia," Remus said thoughtfully, "you don't honestly believe _Oleander_ or whatever her name is, do you? My God, that woman made Harry sleep under a staircase for eleven years."

Amelia sighed. "I know Petunia was horrible and Severus was very sweet about trying to repair the damage, but…oh, Remus, it's hard to think that he may have loved another…first, and more."

Her voice broke and she turned away in embarrassment Awkwardly, Remus shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Amelia," he finally managed, sitting down beside her, "I owe you a favor, so although it violates every instinct I have, here goes."

"Here goes what?" she asked drearily.

"I was there, Amelia. Years ago. I saw them together. I saw what happened. Petunia didn't. You didn't. But I did."

She paused, looking at him in a mixture of fear, anticipation and hope.

"Snape was a confused, victimized wreck – and Lilly was decent to him. She was about the only one, too – and she basically rescued him that awful night. Of course he responded."

Amelia bit her lip and blinked back the tears.

"Oh, she liked Snape well enough, but then there was James and all of that. Snape's relationship with Lilly never reached the level it has with you. It couldn't grow."

"Yes, I guess you have a point there," she murmured.

"But…more important than all of that ancient history is… I've seen you and Severus. He's so in love with you he can't tie his shoes when you're in sight. You're worrying for nothing. Don't, Amelia. Don't let it get in the way. He's been through such hell…if you began to doubt him, God knows what he'd do, but I don't think we'd have the displeasure of his company much longer."

"I don't know…I'm so scared."

"You should be proud. Proud of what you've done."

"Proud of what? Making him take a needle of poison for me that marred his powers? Making him come here, and risk his life…"

"Oh, what else would he be doing? Intimidating students?"

She laughed just a little.

"Unrequited love is boring, Amelia. He finally, thank God, moved on. You did that, Amelia. You did that for him."

She smiled, a spark of hope flickering in her eyes.

"Believe me, my dear, you're the _one._ And don't think I derive any pleasure in saying it. But I did torment him in the old days, so I suppose I owe him this much."

She wiped tears away from her cheeks and he slipped his arm around her and handed her his handkerchief.

Kissing his cheek, she smiled.

"Remus, you're so sweet. Just as soon as we get back to Hogwarts, I'm going to find you a wife. I really am."

He just laughed. "Oh, Lord, no. I'm not like Severus. I'd rather stew in my unrequited love for a certain potions mistress."


	90. Book 2 chapter 63

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 63

He hadn't come.

Everything was in place. Two cemetery plots were freshly opened – beside her mother's. Invisibility cloaks were distributed all around. Only Remus stood quietly, in a black suit and tie, doing his best to look properly grim. Back at the safe-house, Harry awaited with the baby.

No one else.

Severus and Amelia stood bleakly beneath the stuffy cloaks, behind a large oak tree, but as the minutes lingered and dragged into an hour – Remus looked back toward Snape and Amelia and shrugged.

No, this couldn't be happening, she thought tiredly. Please make this plan work. Why wasn't her father here? Why hadn't he come?

She cringed when she realized he might not care enough to pay his respects to her. They'd done their best to post an ad in the paper for a memorial service; to let Nancy know to tell her father – everything. And he still hadn't come.

"Why did my mother marry him?" she asked drearily. "She could have gone to Hogwarts, to her sister, and to safety."

"Love, I suppose," Severus answered.

She sighed at the meaning in his words. Love. What a double-edged sword it could be. And you never knew which edge you would wind up on until you took the risk.

"…a love that kept both of our mothers making excuses for their husbands' abominable behavior. Excuses that made everyone miserable. Excuses that led nowhere." His voice was low and tired.

"Didn't they love us, Severus? Didn't our mothers love us? Why would they allow our fathers to behave so horribly?"

He sighed and slipped his arm around her.

"I don't know much about love, Amelia. I have little experience with it, except on rare occasion with you. But…when you love someone so deeply, I suppose…you always hope. Sometimes, people go on hoping too long."

"My mother always told me that tomorrow would be a better day," Amelia remembered. "That he would come to his senses…tomorrow. I think she really believed it."

He smiled tiredly. "I seem to recall my mother saying similar things."

"So…did they love us, Severus?" she asked. "Or did they just love our lunatic fathers and forget about us?"

"I think they loved us, my dear. In their minds, however twisted things became, they were doing the right thing. Perhaps they thought angry fathers were better than none. Who knows? But my mother loved me; and your mother loved you. That's something you just know."

"I suppose my mother was only trying to hang on to a bit of hope."

"Yes. I'm sure of it." He smiled earnestly.

Remus had motioned for the attendants to begin the burial process. It was all too much. Even the sight of her mother's lonely grave made her sick and depressed.

Gradually, almost imperceptibly, a nagging wish to walk through a corn field began to creep over her.

A walk. Wouldn't that be nice? She just wanted to walk. Clear her head. Like she used to after long days at work and longer evenings taking care of her mother.

Stepping forward, they were about to remove their cloaks, when Amelia noticed.

The headstones – as the grave attendants began to prop them in place.

"Don't scream," Snape whispered, or begged, as he realized what they said. "It doesn't mean anything. He's crazy, Amelia. He's crazy."

Her father had been there.

Biting her hand, her lip, anything she could to remain silent, Amelia felt her heart leap in horror and her head begin to spin. That horrible sick, dizzy feeling began to creep over her, like when she'd given a blood sample and gotten up too fast.

"No, Severus," she whispered. "No. Please…"

Fresh, gleaming granite. Fomal, Roman typeface. All very, very elegant, but when one looked further, at the epitaphs, the true nightmare began.

_Anna Garrett: SUICIDE._

_Amelia Garrett Snape: FAILURE._

_Severus Snape: FOOL_.

--

The sun, faint and weak within the low clouds, began to sink to the west – casting a depressing, dull light onto the cemetery.

Tears stung from her eyes.

Remus' mouth was set in a grim line.

"He's always one step ahead of us," Lupin muttered.

The attendants shrugged and began to lower the caskets.

By then, Amelia was nearly hyperventilating, with a mixture of horror, fear and guilt.

"He's too smart," Severus whispered. "He's onto us already. God, when will this end?"

Amelia looked at him in utter frustration – at herself, at her father, at her life - at all the misery she'd brought to these wonderful people who were trying so hard to help her.

Severus and Lupin began to talk in low tones, turning toward the headstones to examine them more carefully.

Behind them, Amelia knew what she was going to do.

"This will end now," she whispered to herself, in such a low voice they couldn't hear.

She threw back her cloak and glanced at the nearby cornfield.

"I am a failure." The epitaph echoed through her mind again and again.

Without quite knowing where she was going, she slipped away. To the cornfield. She would go in, and never come out.

Strangely, she felt drawn to it – a draw that went beyond her own feelings. Beyond nostalgia. Beyond her love for the fields.

Something else was drawing her. Something calm, safe and nice. A nearby cornfield – overgrown and forgotten; brown and petrified from God knew what season.

But it was so incredibly peaceful. She loved cornfields and she knew she had to walk through this one. It was almost like it was calling to her. Calling her name.

"Come to me, Amelia, and I will make you whole again. I will put you at peace. You know only I can do that."

The field had a voice. A lovely, soothing voice. Was it a voice? Oh God, was she hearing voices?

"Amelia," came the wind, whispering just to her. "Amelia, come in."

Was it the wind? It sounded so real. Was she finally losing her mind?

She was hurrying and hurrying, scraping her hand on a parched stalk; hearing the crunch of dead husks beneath her feet.

Perhaps she could vanish – disappear from the world and from herself. Everyone would be better off.

"Amelia…over here. Just a few more steps."

Glancing down a row, zigzagging crazily into infinity, she answered. "Yes? Who are you?"

From behind a clump of dead stalks, a man stepped out – handsome and tall. So handsome. Piercing blue eyes. Before she had met Severus, she used to think he was the handsomest man alive…

He smiled warmly, making all of her fears melt away in a second. As only a father could do.

"Hello, my beautiful girl," came the warm, loving voice she'd nearly forgotten. "Come to me."


	91. Book 2 Chapter 64

Ooops!

Sorry, I posted the same chapter twice. I'm afraid if I remove this I'll mess things up more, so this will end up being an Authors Note. Just go to the next chapter...

Thanks for all of your reviews, they really inspire me! Please keep them coming.

Thanks.


	92. 2Chap64

_Dear readers: I pushed boundaries, a little, with this chapter. If you think it's stupid, send me a note and I might do a second take. If you like it, please let me know. Love, Adele_

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 64

"Don't go to him, Amelia! Don't go," shouted Snape, rushing through the stalks and facing them both in raw panic and terror.

Amelia's father smiled horribly, pointed his wand at Snape, and said two words. "Avada Kedavra."

Snape flew into the air and back into a clump of stalks, lifeless, unable to hear the screams of his wife.

--

Snape's eyes fluttered. He felt as if he'd been shot in the head. Searing, numbing pain in every inch of his skull, running down his neck and into his arms. He groaned in agony, and a stream of blood trickled from his mouth.

Above him, Lupin and Harry applied compresses and administered a tonic that Lupin had created on the stove of the safe house.

"Amelia," whispered Snape. "Amelia, don't go."

Harry looked at Remus and Remus looked at Harry and both their faces tightened.

"Wake up, old man," Lupin said softly. "Wake up now."

He took a spoon and put a little bit more of the tonic to Severus' lips.

At last, Severus was able to keep his eyes open and realized he was in a bedroom of the safe house.

He also realized everything hurt, from head to toe. Had every bone in his body been broken?

"God knows how you survived it," Lupin murmured, checking his pulse and shining a light into Snape's eyes to check dilation. "Perhaps it was that marriage bond Albus talked about."

Snape began to remember, though every thought in his head crashed against his skull like a stick beating a drum.

"Amelia," he whispered. "Please, Remus, where is she? Tell me she's here."

"She isn't here, Snape," Remus said softly. "He took her. She's gone. But we're going to find her. We're going to find her, if it takes every last breath in my body."

Closing his eyes, Snape turned his head away from Remus and clapped his hands over his face.

Harry crossed his arms in agitation. "She's not dead, sir. She's just missing. We looked all over the corn field – but he took her."

"We need to find out where," Remus said hurriedly.

"She's dead," Snape groaned. "She's dead. He's killed her. He always wanted to kill her…oh my God…"

Remus bent forward and passed a bit of whiskey between Snape's lips.

"She may not be dead. We have to try finding her," Remus urged.

But Snape's eyes glittered crazily and he grabbed Remus' arm.

"Kill me, Remus."

"What?"

"You heard me. Do it. I'm begging you. Put a bullet between my eyes since the damned curse won't work. Just kill me."

He meant it. There was no edge to his voice. No plea for sympathy. Just a request. A simple, heartfelt request.

"No, professor," Harry said softly, but firmly. "You have a son. It doesn't matter what happens to you. You have a son. Duty, sir."

Snape groaned and fell back against the pillow. Severus Jr., safely tucked in Harry's arms, was strangely silent, almost thoughtful, as he looked at his father in confusion.

Sensing eyes upon him, Snape sat up in the bed as best he could, though the pain was edging him to the point of vomiting – and held out his arms for his son.

Harry placed Severus Jr. in his arms and Snape closed his exhausted eyes.

"Your mother is going to be all right," he said softly to the baby. "You must know how much she loves you. That love will make her survive. I know it."

"That's the spirit," Remus smiled.

The baby slid his arms around Snape's neck and held on for dear life.

Harry smiled grimly.

"You may be all he has left, sir," Harry reminded him. "No firing squads for you. Not for at least eighteen years, sir."

Snape nodded, just as grimly.

"Harry," he began thoughtfully.

Harry's eyes opened wider. Snape had never called him by his first name until this moment.

"Yes, sir?" Harry answered.

"You must do me a favor. I know you don't owe me anything after the way I've treated you…but do it for the baby."

"I'll do it for you, sir," Harry answered simply.

"Take Severus."

"What?"

"Take him back to Hogwarts and hide him. Use every bit of magic you have. Enlist Albus and Minerva to help you. Hide him and care for him until…_we_…come back. The scoundrel has Amelia…I don't want him to get the baby, too. She wouldn't want that."

"But sir…"

"Please, Harry, do it for Amelia."

"But you may need help – reinforcements," Harry protested.

"The most valuable help I can have – is the knowledge that my son is in the best of hands – far away from here."

"But professor, you only have Professor Lupin. You're at a disadvantage. What will you do? You're far outnumbered."

"Not so outnumbered, young man. I can help the professor, too," said a thin, crackly, oddly ominous voice from behind the door. "I have ways of making people cooperate."

Harry glanced over and saw…Miss Gulch?

"Miss Gulch?" his mouth opened in shock. Even Lupin stood, frozen in surprise.

No longer prim and proper Miss Gulch, matron of the safe house…the woman was draped in miles of black crepe – a long cape, and a tall, pointed, black hat.

"Elvira," Snape greeted, smiling weakly. "You needn't go to so much trouble. You've been good enough just letting us stay here."

"Nonsense. You've done me a few favors, Snape, like getting my slippers back from that malcontent neighbor girl. I owe you."

"You've got to be kidding," Remus said in a half laugh. "I mean, really…green skin? It's so…clichéd…"

"Who are you calling clichéd, werewolf?" Elvira said icily, her long, thin fingers clenching her skirt. "You're not at Hogwarts anymore. Out here, I'm in control. You'd do well to remember that."

"I can't believe this," Remus went on with a great smile. "I thought you melted."

"As if water could vanquish me. Don't believe what you read in the papers, fool."

"Yes, really, Lupin. She's the veritable boss of Kansas, isn't that right, Elvira?" Snape smiled smugly.

"Right as rain."

"So…how do you two know each other?" Remus choked back laughter. "Oz University?"

Elvira smiled acidly. "Hilarious. But we do go back quite a ways."

"Let's just say, we've worked together in the past," Snape interjected hastily. "The rest doesn't merit going into."

Elvira shot Lupin a pat smile. Remus just shook his head.

"We've got to get to that nurse," Snape muttered. "Nancy…Nancy will know where to start."

"Then let's go torture…I mean, see her," Remus said eagerly.


	93. Book 2 Chapter 65

_BOOK 2 CHAPTER 65_

Nancy opened the door of her little house and saw Remus standing in before her, smiling politely and holding a bouquet of delicate orange flowers in his hands.

"Are you Nancy Simmons?" he asked in his most polite, businesslike manner.

"Yes? What's this about?" She scowled and peered beyond him into the darkness.

Lupin merely smiled even more politely. "Oh, nothing's wrong, ma'am. I have a delivery of flowers – for you. Sign here."

Within ten minutes, Lupin had transformed her living room into a virtual flower garden.

Orange, yellow, crimson. The freshest, most vibrant flowers she'd ever seen. Funny, she hadn't seen them growing around the city. What were they? So delicate, yet so hearty. And what an unusual scent – so delicate, yet one whiff and she wanted to breathe it in all night. What were they?

"Poppies, I believe; California's best," Remus said smugly. "I believe the card is from a Dr. Paul Garrett."

Her eyes widened as she took the note. "Paul?"

The note read, simply: "Thank you for all of your work. I have Amelia now. We're nearly through this ordeal."

"Why, thank you," Nancy managed, smiling brightly and looking around the room in pleasant surprise.

--

Just beyond Nancy's front yard, behind a massive old oak tree, knelt Severus and Elvira, making sure the tree trunk covered any view Nancy would have of them.

Elvira had to bite a long fingernail to keep from breaking into gales of ironic laughter.

"Oh, lord, I love this," she cackled. "It works every time. I'll swear an oath, poppies are the mother's milk of witchcraft."

Snape's eyes rolled. "Spare me the poppy speech, Elvira. You and I both know Veritaserum, or just plain torture, is much more reliable…"

"Did I ask for your opinion, Snape?" she snapped. "It seems to me you didn't do all that well on the horticulture exams, if memory serves."

"It was boring as hell. And the idea that these silly little flowers can have power to manipulate…"

"Oh, stop. You don't know everything. You think you do, but you don't. Veritaserum has poppy seed oil as a key ingredient."

"I know that - since I invented it," he muttered.

"You didn't invent it."

"I perfected it."

"It's overrated, and the side effects are miserable."

"Oh God…"

"Just poppies, Severus. Poppies will do the job, gently and thoroughly. I've always said you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar. You'll see."

Frowning, Snape shook his head and looked the other way.

Remus bowed after Nancy signed the manifest – turned and then stopped, as if he'd suddenly remembered something.

"Oh, Miss Simmons," he said, off-handedly.

"Yes?" she said cheerfully.

She took another deep whiff of the beautiful bouquet that he'd placed in her hand. They had such a delicious aroma she couldn't stop smelling them. Almost hypnotic. And so enticing. Overwhelming. Addictive.

Lupin smiled. "Mr. Garrett…he left a hospital address in case we couldn't locate you, but I need a home address, also."

She blinked sleepily. "Oh no. You have the wrong address, sir. He hasn't been out that way since…since his wife passed away."

Lupin paused. "Oh, my. He wanted me to send him the invoice after I'd delivered the bouquets. Would you happen to have a forwarding address?"

Blinking sleepily, she nodded and yawned. "Please, come in."

Back behind the tree, Elvira smiled from ear to ear. Snape's eyes glazed over.

"You're very handsome," Nancy said to Lupin, who shrugged and smiled politely.

"Thank you, miss. You're as pretty as these lovely flowers," he answered, watching her begin to stagger toward a kitchen drawer.

"What did you say these were again?" she asked groggily.

"Did I say? Oh, I can't recall. I know they started with a 'p.' Some kind of…petunia, perhaps?"

"Petunia? Petunia, petunia. Like Petunia Dursley. Very useful. A very useful flower. She helped us more than we ever thought. Let us know how things were going at Hogwarts…how that lunatic Amelia was doing…"

"Hogwarts, ma'am?" Remus smiled casually.

"Oh, sorry. Some ridiculous magic school in England. Well conquer them all one day. Here's Paul's address."

She handed Lupin a piece of paper.

"I don't think these flowers are petunias." She yawned again, closed her eyes and slumped down on the couch.

"I don't think they are, either," Remus smiled, and quietly left the house.


	94. Book 2 Chapter 66

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 66

"Amelia," came a soft, gentle whisper that she hadn't heard in years, but somehow awakened her every memory.

"Yes?" she whispered.

The man before her could only laugh joyfully and hold out his arms. "Don't sound so afraid, my dear. How are you? I've missed you so much."

She took a step backward, trying to see him through the corn stalks, trying to catch any insincerity, and praying Severus would come.

"I wish you'd have told me where you were," he said earnestly. "I did everything to find you. Everything."  
Turning, in spite of herself, Amelia faced the man she knew she would face.

Her father.

Tears instantly sprang into her eyes. There he was. Tall, graying hair, which had once been raven black, and those incredibly blue eyes. She always loved his eyes – the way she loved Severus' eyes. Funny, she'd forgotten about them until now. Until now. Until now.

"Dad?" she asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Yes. Come here to me." He held out his arms.

Reluctantly, she stepped forward and he smiled. Finally, she burst into tears and fell into his arms, which closed quickly around her and pulled her close.

"Dad, why, why did you do those awful things at Hogwarts? Why haven't you come for me, or tried to see me?"

He laughed softly, soothingly, as he used to laugh on the rare occasions when he would comfort her.

"Amelia, Amelia, how could I? Hogwarts is so evil, it's impossible to gain access. Oh, I tried, but I was thwarted at every attempt. I had to cause a little trouble – all in the name of getting you back."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You can't listen to those evil witches at Hogwarts. They'll try anything - anything to implicate me or anyone else who is fighting for the cause of good."

"Oh dad, I have so many questions," she murmured.

"There's only one answer. I love you. I've been trying to find you for all these months. That misguided aunt of yours illegally sprang you from the hospital - from the hospital you needed – for your recovery."

"Aunt Minerva?"

"Yes. You must never see her again, my dear. You must trust me. Stay with me and leave that disgraceful school. It corrupts the most innocent of people in the name of good magic. But they practice the blackest of black magic, Amelia. I promise you."

She paused, her mind racing in a hundred directions. He went on, with just a bit too much of haste in his voice.

"What good have they done? Tell me. What good? While we, my dear, are forging ahead with a new magical regime. A new time where magic will be recognized, and honored, and…"

"But dad...you left us. You left us both."

"Did it ever occur to you that I had to leave? Your mother said I was a bad influence on you, and who would the courts believe?"

Her forehead creased. It didn't make sense and it did. Her mind ran in a hundred directions. Oh Severus, please come…

"Yes, my dear. She threatened to go to court. To forbid me to see you ever again. Can you imagine? But Amelia, I just wanted the best for you. Your mother wanted you to go to that awful school. I knew their black magic would only corrupt you. I wanted the best for you - here, in the true magical world."

Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she nodded. God, how she wanted to believe him. Was this the truth? Was this all nothing but a huge misunderstanding?

"Your mother...was good at heart, but couldn't help clinging to that type of witchcraft…that abomination."

_Abomination_. The word smashed into her like a train and she found herself beginning to collapse, but he held her tightly.

"But you're a Deatheater," she faltered.

His eyes cooled, and he stiffened, but said nothing.

"So was your husband," he said coldly, but then seemed to catch himself and forced a broad smile.

"Amelia, we aren't _Deatheaters_. We're _Lifegivers_. We only want what's best for the magical realm. The power it deserves. And to avoid the exploitation of the muggle world. These labels that Hogwarts assigns everything…your aunt would say anything to make herself and Anna look innocent; when it's quite the opposite. You have to leave them all. I have a surprise to show you. A surprise that will make everything better. A surprise that will show you where you belong."

She was dying to tell him of her own surprise. Of her son - but she didn't. Something - something very small but very strong, wouldn't let her.

"I'm married, dad," she managed. "I can't stay."

His eyes glittered, or perhaps simmered, in an unsettling sort of way. "Amelia, we must have your marriage annulled. Your husband is the only real Deatheater in our midst. An evil man. A hateful, horrible man."

"He's...wonderful," she whispered. "He's the love of my life."

"He's a psychopath. You're so innocent and forgiving. He's taken full advantage of that to bewitch you. He knows about your… unfortunate powers…and plans to use them to hurt people, Amelia. Hurt people. Would you want that?"

She paused and eyed him suspiciously. Severus had never called her powers unfortunate. He even seemed to respect them. How odd her father should say they were unfortunate.

Her father only smiled and held a hand against her cheek.

"You need help, my dear. Help I can give you as a psychiatrist – and a wizard. Severus with all his bumbling cannot begin to comprehend your complexity. I can. I know you. Come with me. I have something to show you."


	95. Book 2 Chapter 67

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 67

"Well, let's go. What are we waiting for?" Snape paced back and forth in front of the fire, glancing at his watch every three seconds.

Lupin's jaw was set in a grim line, and Elvira tried once more to look into her great crystal ball, but saw only yellow fog.

"I know where the address is," she offered, almost apologetically. "I can at least fly you both."

"If we're not too late already," Snape grimaced. "Oh God…what if he took her to one of the other outposts? Or to some remote hiding place. We don't know where…"

Lupin shook his head. "Do you honestly think that's true? Use the bond, Severus. Use it."

Snape swore violently and raked his hands through his hair. "I don't know anything about that damned bond. I don't know how to use it. Albus never taught us."

"Where do you _feel_ she is?" Lupin asked.

Snape closed his eyes and scowled. "I…don't really see anything, except perhaps a little house. I think she's nearer rather than farther."

"Well, we might as well start with the address," Lupin said. "At least it may provide a clue as to where to look."

Suddenly, a sharp rapping came at the front door and they all nearly jumped out of their skin. Elvira peered out of a side window and sighed irritably.

"Good Lord, if things weren't bad enough already…._she_ has to come poking her nose into my business…"

"Who?" Lupin asked.

Another sharp knock broke the silence. Elvira's dark eyes rolled and she jerked the door open.

"Returning my slippers?" she snapped.

"What?" asked a confused, somewhat nasal voice. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Snape was in no shape to analyze it at that moment.

Elvira scowled. "No slippers? Then get off my property." She slammed the door and turned back toward them. "Wretched little brat thinks she can harass me because she has the slippers. One day, I'll…"

Bam, bam, bam!

The door flew open.

"I need to talk to Professor Snape, if you please!" cried the shrill, piercing voice that sent one of Elvira's pet monkey-creatures cowering into a corner.

"I know nothing of any slippers," the girl insisted. "Let me see him at once."

Now Snape's eyes were the ones to roll and he covered his face with his hands.

Not now. Not her.

Was God really out to torture him? Yes. This was atonement. Or perhaps he was in hell. Yes, that was probably it.

Elvira squinted again and then sighed heavily. "Sorry. You look like her. Sound a little like her, too. How was I supposed to know?"

"On second thought, I think she is your neighbor," Snape attempted, but Hermione brushed past Elvira and stood before him.

Lupin stepped forward. "Miss Granger, we're in a bit of a rush. What is the matter?" he asked, knowing Snape would just blast her out of the window.

She turned toward Snape.

"Professor Snape…you asked me to look into the hospital records. I have. I think you'll be interested in this." She handed him the papers.

"I haven't time to read papers. What is it?" he barked.

"There was an autopsy, sir. On her mother."

"So what? There usually is in these cases."

"And…the autopsy concluded suicide. But sir…there was evidence of other things in the mother's stomach. Things…"

"What things? You're wasting time."

"Things the medical examiner dismissed…things like simple honey; rosewater; a little belladonna. Unknown powder of root…"

"What?" Snape thundered, scanning the papers and staring at her in shock. "Those things make…oh my God."

Hermoine stood very still. Lupin's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"He knew," Snape murmured. "He did it. When combined with the medicines she was taking…oh my God."

Hermione looked down. "I'm sorry, sir. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news."

"Sorry? Miss Granger, for the first time in your life, you've finally done something…"

Lupin kicked him in the shin.

"I mean…this is commendable work. Truly commendable. You don't know what you've done for Amelia; if only we can reach her in time. When she finds out…everything will change."

Elvira propped her broom against the door. "Then what are we waiting for."


	96. Book 2 Chapter 68

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 68

"Do you remember this place, Amelia? Do you remember this house?"

"I thought it exploded," she murmured, looking at the modest yellow house in awe.

"And why did it explode, Amelia?"

"Because of…me." The words died on her lips.

"Indeed, my dear. Because of you. Because you cannot control your own powers. You're a chaos witch, and very, very dangerous. Very, very bad."

Her forehead creased and she blinked back tears. She didn't feel bad. She didn't feel like she wanted to do evil things. Why would he say such a thing? But his voice was so mild; so sincere. A father's voice.

"It's not that you can help it, mind you," he said gently.

"Oh dad, I can't help it. I really can't. I didn't mean to blow it up. I…"

"I understand you, my dear. I can help you. But you need to leave all of that evil at Hogwarts behind you – and come with me."

"How is this possible?" Amelia asked weakly, looking up the steps at the house.

"Don't worry about that, dear. It's merely a vision of what once was. Meant to teach you an important lesson that Professor Snape is trying to ignore. To neglect. Probably in an effort to exploit you for his own purposes."

Her eyes clouded. Professor Snape...where was he? Why had she left him to begin with? That very moment, she longed for him more than she ever had in her life.

"You need to see, Amelia," her father said gently, pointing to the scene. "To see what you did. You have to let me take care of you. You cannot control yourself, my dear. You can't know when you will wreak such havoc again."

"Can we go inside? I've missed this house so much. I'm so sorry for what I did."

"Of course." He smiled darkly; hungrily.

They walked up the crooked pathway. It looked so familiar. Just as it had a few years ago. How many times had she come up this pathway? And then, the last time. The time everything fell apart. The time she fell apart. The time life fell apart.

The door swept open and the memories nearly crushed her with their power.

Inside the tiny house, Amelia was swept back in time. Furniture she'd forgotten; scents; the piano. Her mother's chair.

The chair.

And in it, though just a blurry image, lay her mother, slumped over. Just like that night. That night…

"You did this, Amelia," he said in a low, firm voice. "You caused all of this."

"No, dad. No." Her voice began to rise to a hysterical pitch.

"You neglected her; and she died; and you made everything explode. You're so confused, you're so askew. You need me."

"I didn't know how much pain she was in," Amelia wept. "I swear it. I had no idea she'd kill herself. May I fall over dead if I'm lying."

"You are a chaos witch. Because of that I wanted to control…I mean, guide you. Your mother, fool…I mean, trusting as she was…refused. She made me leave. See how you caused all of her misery because of your powers? You did, Amelia. You ruined our marriage – and her life."

"I'm sorry," she continued to weep. "I couldn't help that I was a chaos witch. I didn't even know."

He nodded and she clutched his arm, in a gesture almost begging him to forgive her.

"Dad…my husband is taking care of me. He takes such good care of me, dad. I'm learning to control my powers; to help people. I even helped Professor Lupin."

"A fluke, Amelia. But I offer you a choice."

She could barely see him beyond her tears, but somehow she nodded for him to continue.

"Go into the bathroom, just like that night, and use the razor, nice and neat, or let me care for you. Snape will only use you for evil, and haven't you done enough of that?"


	97. Book 1 Extra

Earlier Chapter sometime after Halloween….

_Dear Readers, I just wrote this for fun. I love the more intimate passages. I really only write the scarier chapters to have an excuse to write the romance. This chapter would appear shortly after the Halloween chapter. See what you think. Love, Adele_

The following night, Amelia sat by the firelight of her own chamber, drinking tea and trying to keep from being sick once again, as she had been that afternoon after a particularly bad serving of chicken. A knock came at her door and she answered it.

It was Snape, frowning and crossing his arms.

"You missed dinner," he groused. "I felt like an idiot, sitting there all alone.  
Her forehead creased and she pressed his hand. "I'm sorry. I don't feel very well tonight. I made myself eat that chicken for lunch and, well, it came right back up again."

He scowled. "The food here is fine. I don't understand all of this, Amelia."

She shrugged. "Neither do I. I'm sorry I wasn't there, though. Won't you come in?"

She held the door open.

"Not if you're contagious," he muttered and she laughed softly.

"I'm sure it's nothing," she answered.

"You're pale"

"I'm still a bit queasy. I'm sorry."

He sighed. "Then you'll be of no use to me tonight. Let me know when you're better."

She burst into delighted giggles and slipped her arms around his neck, kissing him softly. "I love you so much," she whispered. "I feel so much better, just with you being here."

"Hmm. Well...if you give whatever you have to me, I'll strap you with extra grading."

She smiled and blushed.

"Do you need to go to the infirmary?" he asked.

"No. Seriously, it's just a bit of an upset stomach."

He sighed and they sat down on the edge of her bed.

"I just didn't know where you were; and I was a bit worried. You get lost easily, and not all parts of this castle are friendly."

She smiled. "You're sweet."

"Amelia..." He glanced quickly around the room.

"Yes?"

"You've done absolutely nothing with this chamber."

He was right. There wasn't a trace of decoration to be seen.

"Yes, well, perhaps you have a point."

He sighed.

"I like your room," she confessed with a blush.

"Whose picture is this? What a horrid looking fellow." He picked up the frame by her bed stand and barely smiled at his own image. She'd cut it out of a recent yearbook.

"It's a very, very wonderful man I know."

"Not very good looking."

"Oh, he's so handsome, especially when he's being horrible."

"Amelia?" He studied her carefully.

"Yes?"

"Forgive me, but do you...sleep in the dress?"

Blushing, she was at a loss for words for a minute.

"...not when I'm with you," she answered warmly.

He only shook his head.

"I'm afraid I don't have anything to make this room pretty with. It all was lost in the explosion."

He paused. "I see. Well, I suppose you might feel rather swallowed up in here."

She nodded. "I like _your_ rooms."

"And it does seem a bit cold in here."

She nodded again. "There's a draft from the window."

"So there is." He cleared his throat.

"What shall I do?" Her eyes were huge pools of love and adoration.

"There's only one thing to do."

"Yes?" She could hardly breathe.

"Your aunt has a lovely cottage on the grounds. Stay with her."

Laughing merrily, she hugged him tightly. "There's someone else I'd rather stay with."

"No."

"Please..."

"I'm a confirmed bachelor. Too many bad habits."

She laughed. "I love you. And all of your habits."

"You need to stop saying that, Amelia."

"I know I do. I'll work on it."

"No you won't."

"Well, you're right. I won't."

"How can you possibly like my evil lair?"

"It's wonderful and scary."

"Well, all right. But it was all your idea."

"Of course."


	98. Book 2 Chapter 69

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 70

Outside the house, Snape and Lupin banged at the window, yanked at the door – yelling charms and countercharms above the winds that seemed to blow and blow.

Lupin looked worriedly at the greenish sky swirling above them.

"Severus, the sky's gone green. Doesn't that mean…"

Cursing wildly, Snape yelled out a third charm, but the house only shuddered. He peered through the window, feeling like he was observing a scene from a dream. A scene he had no power to control.

"Just touch the dress," Severus whispered in a fervent hiss.

"Snape….look…a cellar door." Lupin pointed to an angled door that was fastened to the side of the house.

They raced around the corner. Now, a true funnel cloud had pierced the sky. Evil, dreadful, angry.

The cellar door. Charm after charm failed. At last, Snape simply took out a revolver and shot the lock. It popped neatly open. A freight train was growing nearer. Good Lord, a train? From where? There weren't even any tracks…

They jerked up the cellar door and tumbled down the stairs, one over the other. Lupin's cape caught in the latch as the twister hit, pulling him up and out. Snape grabbed his shoulders, airborne with him, struggling to tear the cape off.

Ripping the tie, he pulled Lupin downward, while the cape flew up into the cyclone as if it were being sucked in one breath by a giant dragon. Above, the cellar door slammed shut with a huge bang. Snape rammed the bolt through the latch.

"Run," Snape yelled.

They ran, or rather tumbled, down the cellar steps and cowered in the corner. Neither of them had seen a tornado before. The noise was nauseating – overpowering, filling up their heads until they thought they would each explode.

Then, Snape winced.

Once again, his wrist had begun to bleed.

"No," he cried. "No!"

"Oh dad," she wept, holding the razor in her hand so tightly it began to cut into her palm. "I-I didn't kill her. She didn't want to die. She was in pain. She was in agony. That's why she killed herself."  
"No, Amelia. You'd abandoned her."  
"Dad, no!"  
The yellow light surrounded her. Nearby, her mother, or at least the image of her, was slumped in a chair.  
Outside, the freight train approached. Dereailed and hurling toward them. Horribly loud. Rumbling. Crazy. The entire house trembled. Trains were so powerful, she thought erratically. So powerful.   
Suddenly, the slumped figure sat up, but only in the mirror's reflection. Sat up and smiled.  
"Amelia, don't listen to him. I love you," she said, and slumped back over.  
The house began to rumble, scream and groan from its very foundation. Glass flew out of the windows with a horrific scream. The power flickered, and went out.  
Picking himself up off the floor, Snape grabbed onto a nearby banister and dragged himself up the stairs, toward the house, while Lupin managed to crawl behind him.

They burst into the kitchen, while the wind screamed and swirled around them. Dark, crazy and insane.

"Amelia," Severus cried in a panic. "Don't. Don't listen to him."

Amelia stood inside, staring at her father, a razor in one hand and her arm held out.

"No, you fool," her father screamed. "the artery, not the vein. The artery…"

Her father lunged at Amelia and grabbed her collar, but Snape grabbed her about the waist and dragged her backward, both of them tumbling down on the floor, as part of the roof blew off.

"Listen to me. Listen to me," Snape urged her, having to yell into her ear above the incredible din of the storm.

"Severus?" she asked in surprise. "Severus, you should go. You should go."

"No. No, I'll never leave you. And you can't leave me. You can't. You promised. I'll die without you."

"Oh, Severus…"

"I have news, Amelia…"

"Don't listen to his lies, Amelia," her father hissed. "He's a liar and a traitor. He'll turn his back on you whenever it pleases him – just like he turned his back on the cause."

"I'll never turn my back on you, Amelia."

Her father's eyes blazed and he turned toward Snape. "You fool – marrying her. Don't you know she'll never give you a moment's peace? Leave. Leave now and free yourself."

Snape pointed his wand at her father. Suddenly, he was feeling strong – like he used to feel. Like he could do things with the wand again. Some kind of energy was flowing again – and he felt more alive than he'd felt in a year.

"You don't know what she is," her father seethed. "She's an abomination. A perversion of magic. You need to leave her to me."

"Over my dead body," Snape hissed, his fingers clenching his wand so tightly part of him wondered if he'd break it. Outside, the very foundations of the house groaned, as the twister came and went in a strange, chaotic dance.

Before he knew what he was doing, Snape held up the wand and said the word "Experiamus."

In a blast of explosion, her father flew across the room and crashed in a heap against the wall. When the dust cleared, blood streamed from a gash on his forehead, and from a cut on his lip.

Snape sank to his knees in exhaustion. Struggling for consciousness and balance, he could barely sit up.

Her father only laughed horribly.

"Took a lot out of you, eh Severus? I'm impressed you could do it at all."

"You framed your own daughter. With poison you made," Snape hissed bitterly. "I knew Malfoy was too much of an idiot to do this alone."

"But he's an apt pupil – and informant. Amusing what some people will do for a little money and prestige within the organization."

Snape managed to stand up, bracing himself on the side of the sofa.

"My daughter is wild and destructive, and the prophet said one from her line would do something terrible. She belongs in Pandemonium."

"She's beautiful and kind and capable of great good. I can teach her. Train her. She won't have to go to Pandemonium."

"The leader has…concerns."

"Concerns? About whom? You? The Deatheaters?"

"What do you care, you turncoat. She's a mistake of nature. Like a Dementor, but worse…and I'm doing you a favor."

Snape's wand dug into the base of his throat. "Tell me what you mean, you blackguard. For God's sake, she's your daughter. She loves you, as did her mother."

"She's a chaos witch, you fool. You married chaos…and you have a son. A son who could do great things…if trained in the right ways."

"You only want to use her for your own purposes and ruin her. Well, we found out a little something…Amelia…"

"Yes?" she answered bleakly.

"Your mother…your mother didn't kill herself. She didn't. He did it. I can prove it."

"Don't listen to his lies," her father screamed, raising his wand at Snape and sending Snape blasting against the far wall.

"Hermione had the records stolen. Here they are." He tossed them across to her.

"Don't listen to him, Amelia," her father cried. "He's a liar. The best liar I know."

"Amelia, her stomach showed signs of poison. A subtle, tasteless poison made from unidentified ingredients which I analyzed to be Whomping Willow root and the blood of male Hypogryffes."

She looked at him in confusion.

"It's from the same line of poisons I made for myself years ago. You can't get the ingredients in this country. And they're illegal at Hogwarts."

"Then…how?" she breathed.

"There was no suicide. She was poisoned. So were you, to a lesser extent."

At first, she couldn't catch a breath. Or remember how to breathe, or where she was. Her ears were filled with the sound of waves.

"He lies. Anna killed herself, Amelia. Because of you," her father hissed.

"Your father seems somewhat adept at potions, though not as thorough as he should have been. He forgot about the residue honey leaves in the stomach lining."

Tears welled in her eyes as joy filled every inch of her soul, years of pain being lifted away.

"Oh my God, Severus," she whispered, and began to weep openly, throwing her arms around him and burying her head in his shoulder.

Then her father stared at Snape and his eyes filled with fury and fear.

He pointed his wand at both of them and his eyes blazed with hatred. "Avada Cadavara…" he screamed.

A flash lit the room and a huge boom followed. Then her father stared, stupefied, at both of them. Snape smiled neatly.

"You…" her father hissed, "You…"

Snape smiled. "The same powder you used on us. It's smeared on her dress, you fool."

Her father raised his wand toward Snape but a window blew outward and the house's pressure changed instantly. The door flew off, and out he flew, into the cyclone.

"Hold on, Amelia," Snape yelled.

The house was spinning in mad circles and there was a horrible nausea. A roller coaster. That's what it was. An endless, endless roller coaster.

Freight trains. What a cliché. But how true. How true. It was getting hard to keep her eyes open.

Then, the falling. The worst part. Down, down, down.


	99. Book 2 Chapter 70

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 71

Boom.

The house landed.

"Ugh," Lupin moaned from somewhere underneath an overturned bed.

"Ugh," Elvira groaned. How the hell she'd gotten there, Lupin had no idea.

Then, silence.

Shouldn't there have been two more _ugh's_?

Gazing around the room, Lupin could barely focus his eyes. Boards and dust and grime were everywhere. Furniture was overturned; windows broken; walls cracked. In fact, the house had turned upside-down. They were laying on the ceiling – or what was left of it.

Quiet. Thick silence. Only a dog barking in the distance.

The sky was clear and full of stars.

Lupin wondered, why weren't there sirens? Why hadn't someone come to help them? Wasn't the poor town in shambles?

Crawling over to a broken window, he peered outside. Nothing much to speak of. The neighbor's house to the north – an empty lot to the south.

Then he glanced around the room. Nobody.

"Oh my God, Elvira," Lupin finally breathed. "Where are they? Are they…"

"Don't jump to conclusions, werewolf," she groaned tiredly. "Let's take this one step at a time."

They eased themselves up onto their feet and crunched through the debris toward a door, which was swinging on it's hinges, but also upside down, giving the house an even crazier look.

Taking a step outside, Lupin gazed around the area and saw nothing but a normal neighborhood settling in for the night.

"You don't mean to say we were the only house to be affected by the twister?" he asked in dread.

Elvira shrugged. "Could be…with that girl's chaos magic or whatever her father said it was."

Then, she glanced up to the sky. "We need to watch for falling houses. My poor sister was killed by one and…"

"Help…" cried a muffled voice. "Help me…"

But there wasn't a soul to see.

Remus' forehead creased in alarm.

"Help…down here…"

They glanced down, in the direction of the voice. Lupin illuminated his wand.

There lay two feet - attached to two ankles - and the crazy house covering the rest. Glittering ruby slippers were set neatly on the feet.

"At last! This is too good to be true!" Elvira cried in joy.

Reaching for the slippers, she cried out in pain when a flash-burn singed her long, green fingers. She reared back in rage. The feet wiggled impatiently.

"I'm not dead yet," cried the rather shrill, piercing voice. "Get me out of here."

Elvira paused.

That was a hard one. It was like being faced with the moral decision of the ages. Or a tough math problem.

"Can't hear you, dearie," she said, at last.

Lupin's eyes widened. "Miss Gulch, really."

"Don't be judging me, wolf. This girl may look innocent, but she killed my sister and stole our slippers. I say, what goes around comes around."

Then, addressing the feet, she chuckled. "Chickens coming home to roost, my fine lady."

The feet twisted and wiggled again, and more groans and moans could be heard. Finally Lupin bent down to inspect further. The certain pitch of the voice had begun to jog his memory.

"Miss Granger?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"How did you get under here?"

"Please, sir, I can't breath."

Not knowing what else to do, he grabbed her about the ankles and yanked.

She popped out like a cork from a bottle.

"Thank God you're all right," Lupin cried in joy.

"Give me my damned slippers," Elvira said in disgust.

Hermione gasped and coughed and sputtered for several minutes while Elvira crossed her arms impatiently. Lupin managed to wipe stray grit and blood from Hermione's face with his handkerchief.

"How did you survive it?" he asked in awe.

"How did you get those slippers?" Elvira asked in a sulk.

Hermione sighed.

"Luckily, I landed in a ditch before the house landed," she explained to Remus. "It fell on top of me, but not on me."

Then she looked squarely at Elvira. "You can't have the shoes. Your neighbor lent them to me – to protect me against _you_. Besides, I rather like them. "

"Oh, for God's sake," Elvira muttered.

Hermione smiled smugly. "Yes, we had a very nice cup of tea a few hours ago: your neighbor, her lovely aunt and I."

Elvira's eyes rolled. Hermione prattled on.

"I was panicked. I couldn't find any of you anywhere – and they finally told me where you might be. She spies on you all the time, Miss Gulch." Hermione's eyes danced with glee.

"_She spies on you all the time, Miss Gulch_,'" Elvira mimicked sullenly. "Insufferable…"

"My, but aren't these shoes comfortable," Hermione grinned. "Stylish, too. Too bad, once again, you lost them…"

"All right, ladies," Lupin murmured. "That's enough. We need to find Amelia…"

Hermione frowned at him.

"Oh yes, and Snape," he backpedaled.

"And…the father," Miss Gulch said grimly.


	100. Book 2 Chapter 71

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 72

"Ugh."

"Ugh."

Severus landed with a thud on the plank floor of the potions closet and Amelia landed right on top of him.

Back.

Inside the potions closet.

Her head was killing her as she remembered their bizarre meeting: she with her straight razor; he with his poison. Raucous boys in a large classroom. The look of pain on this boy's face.

Dust stirred, a few mice squeaked, and they both blinked in exhaustion.

Amelia, the straight razor still in her hand, looked at Severus; and Severus, a flask of poison still in his hand, looked back at her.

"Give me the razor," he said quietly.

"If you give me the flask," she smiled.

Trading instruments of death, the two remained quiet.

Severus thought. Didn't he know her from somewhere? She looked oddly familiar, yet he couldn't put his finger on it. Pretty. Big blue eyes. About 17, like him. Maybe a little crazy with her long black hair. Dress a bit shabby.

Amelia looked back at him, squinting in the dimness to see him more clearly. My, he looked smart. Very intense. Black hair, aquiline nose. Good husband material. Yes, spending the rest of her life with him would be wonderful. Quite right. Very good. One decision out of the way.

"Hi," she said cheerfully.

He sighed. "What are we doing here?"

"I…think we were trying to kill ourselves," she said softly, remembering something about the color yellow.

"We need to get out of here," he whispered. "We'll be in so much trouble if we're caught…"

He took her hand in his and pulled her up alongside him. Why he should be so bold as to take her hand almost shocked him. He'd never taken a girl's hand before – but this girl's hand was warm and soft, and the fingers wrapped around his immediately.

She smiled warmly at him and he blushed.

God, what was it about her? He knew her. Somehow. Suddenly a blinding flash entered his mind. A woman, dripping with rain, running to him in panic. Sobbing, out of her mind, frightening. But the eyes were the same.

An instant later, the flash was gone and another flash replaced it as the door flew open.

A tall, lanky boy stood in blazing light that stung their eyes.

"My, my, what do we have here, Severus?" he needled. "A little love tryst. You poor girl. Did he drug you with a potion?"

The young man wore round glasses, had blue eyes and a brow not unlike someone she could just barely visualize, but only through clouds of mist.

"Who are _you_?" she retorted.

"You _are_ new, aren't you? I'm James Potter."

Potter? She paused and another hammer hit the inside of her skull. Potter…what a familiar name.

"Are you insane?" Potter went on. "Keeping company with Snape?"

"What are all these questions? Are you writing an article?" she snapped.

He scowled. "The both of you had better get down to dinner or I'll tell."

"What dinner is it?" she asked, as they hurried down the hall at double speed.

"I'm not sure," he muttered.

"Can we eat together?" she asked openly.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because…they'd crucify me, and you, too."

"I don't care."

He cracked the door to the great hall and peaked inside.

God, there they all were. James, Sirius, Lilly, Remus, Peter, Lucius – in their more terrifying young state. Good God, it was hell and he was surrounded by enemies. He didn't know how he knew this, but he did.

"We have to hide you," Severus whispered urgently. "If they find you here, they'll interrogate you; they'll hold an inquiry from the ministry. You don't want all of that. We must think. We must think of how to handle this."

"Aren't I supposed to be here?" she asked in confusion.

"No. I don't think so. I…don't know how I know that. Amelia…Amelia, this is a spell of some kind. Or a joke. I don't know."

"Where can I hide?" she asked.

"I know a perfect spot. It's in a dungeon and…"

"A dungeon. I don't want to hide in a dungeon. It's too dark, and I don't care for being alone."

"I have a few…things…to keep you company."

She frowned skeptically. "Can't we just say I'm your cousin or something?"

Snape paused. "No. No, I don't think so."

"Please."

"No. We look nothing alike. You're pretty and I'm – "

"What? You're crazy. You're better looking than any of those other horrid boys."

He smiled to himself, just a bit.

"Would you really call me pretty?" she wheedled.

His lips twisted in a way that she loved deeply, and knew she loved – but didn't know why.

"I think you're ugly as the devil."

She laughed and slipped her hand into his.


	101. Book 2 Chapter 72

_Hi everyone. I'm sorry I'm confusing you. I'm a bit confused, too. I'm kind of at a writer's crossroads and in a bit of a bind, but I'll push through. I never thought the story would be this long. Thanks for sticking with it. Have a Snapish day!_

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 73

"Here we are. It's really rather cozy. I'll bring you meals – and when I'm not here, you'll have these two to keep you company."

She stared glumly at two enormous pythons. They gazed glumly back at her.

They'd gone down millions of stairs into an ancient, deserted closet that he'd opened with some kind of charm – through the closet and on through a small door inside the closet.

Now they were here. Inside this small chamber was a makeshift desk, papers pinned to the walls, various flasks of God knew what, and a couple of alcohol burners and several cauldrons.

"This is my secret lab," he said proudly. "My God, I found it even after all these years."

Her eyes clouded. "Years?"

His eyes darkened. Years? What had he meant? He had a sense that time had gone by, but how?

He shrugged. "The snakes are quite sociable – and they'll protect you."

"Why do I need to be protected?" she wondered aloud.

His forehead creased. "Amelia…I don't know what is going on. I need time to sort this out. We're not supposed to be here. I can feel it."

"Here? Where are we? Why aren't we supposed to be here?" she asked.

His eyes flashed with worry.

"Let me just…assess the situation for a little while," he begged her. "Amelia, this is a magical institution. If they find you – and see that you don't belong here, awful things could happen."

She sighed and looked down. "I don't even know who I am," she murmured. "This is crazy."

He nodded. "It is crazy. Or worse. God, my head hurts."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. The pain vanished a second later.

Backing away just a few inches, he studied her intently. Glimpsing his hand, he saw a gold band around his ring finger. Around her ring finger was a blazing opal encircled by diamonds.

His mind seared with agony as a flash blinded him again. A room. A cell. Candles. Albus Dumbledore. His teacher? Why would Dumbledore be with them in a cell? Why would they be in a cell together, to begin with?

"Can't we just explain?" Amelia asked him.

"We don't know what to explain," he answered. "We don't know how you got here. Or how I got here."

Pausing, she nodded. Her head ached, too.

"Will you be back soon?" she asked softly.

He looked at her earnest eyes, the softness of her mouth – and nodded.

"I will."

Slipping her arms around his waist, she kissed him softly. He blushed to his hairline, and flew out the door.

--

As Severus climbed the stairs he thought about this young woman and how confusing it all was. Flashes would pop into his mind every so often. Then fade. All he knew was he didn't want to be here. Not again. Not with these people. But how did he knew it was again? It all felt so wrong.

"There you are," Sirius snickered as Snape walked through a long line of benches toward his empty place.

"Who is she, Severus?" Sirius continued to goad. "Someone you kidnapped in Hogsmead?"

"Shut up, Black," Snape hissed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

James was then behind his left shoulder. "She's pretty, Snape. Who is she?"

Snape suddenly had a flash of inspiration. Perhaps this lie would put them at ease – and get them off his back.

"She's a ghost, if you must know," he muttered bitterly.

"A ghost?" Sirius said thoughtfully. "Then I was sitting by a ghost in potions class today. You're such an idiot, Snape. She's an exchange student from the states."

Severus paused in sickening silence.

"She's no ghost, Snape. Unless her father is…and he's a teacher in biopotions." James scowled at him.

Snape couldn't breathe. He wanted to shout but didn't know what to say. Wait. Just listen, Severus. Just be calm and listen for a minute.

"I fancy her," Remus said glibly. "I may ask her to the Halloween celebration."

Snape's face drained of all color.

"I may ask her," Sirius said in challenge.

"I may ask her," Peter added.

Why wouldn't they all just die, Snape wondered. Why couldn't he just wake up. Just wake up.

But was he asleep?


	102. Xtra Chapter

Earlier Chapter sometime after Halloween….

_Dear Readers, I just wrote this for fun. I love the more intimate passages. I really only write the __**scarier chapters to have an excuse to write the romance. This chapter would appear shortly after the Halloween chapter. See what you think. Love, Adele**_

**The following night, Amelia sat by the firelight of her own chamber, drinking tea and trying to keep from being sick once again, as she had been that afternoon after a particularly bad serving of chicken. A knock came at her door and she answered it.**

**It was Snape, frowning and crossing his arms.**

"**You missed dinner," he groused. "I felt like an idiot, sitting there all alone.  
Her forehead creased and she pressed his hand. "I'm sorry. I don't feel very well tonight. I made myself eat that chicken for lunch and, well, it came right back up again."**

**He scowled. "The food here is fine. I don't understand all of this, Amelia."**

**She shrugged. "Neither do I. I'm sorry I wasn't there, though. Won't you come in?"**

**She held the door open.**

"**Not if you're contagious," he muttered and she laughed softly.**

"**I'm sure it's nothing," she answered.**

"**You're pale"**

"**I'm still a bit queasy. I'm sorry."**

**He sighed. "Then you'll be of no use to me tonight. Let me know when you're better."**

**She burst into delighted giggles and slipped her arms around his neck, kissing him softly. "I love you so much," she whispered. "I feel so much better, just with you being here."**

"**Hmm. Well...if you give whatever you have to me, I'll strap you with extra grading."**

**She smiled and blushed.**

"**Do you need to go to the infirmary?" he asked.**

"**No. Seriously, it's just a bit of an upset stomach."**

**He sighed and they sat down on the edge of her bed.**

"**I just didn't know where you were; and I was a bit worried. You get lost easily, and not all parts of this castle are friendly."**

**She smiled. "You're sweet."**

"**Amelia..." He glanced quickly around the room.**

"**Yes?"**

"**You've done absolutely nothing with this chamber."**

**He was right. There wasn't a trace of decoration to be seen.**

"**Yes, well, perhaps you have a point."**

**He sighed.**

"**I like your rooms," she confessed with a blush.**

"**Whose picture is this? What a horrid looking fellow." He picked up the frame by her bed stand and barely smiled at his own image. She'd cut it out of a recent yearbook.**

"**It's a very, very wonderful man I know."**

"**Not very good looking."**

"**Oh, he's so handsome, especially when he's being horrible."**

"**Amelia?" He studied her carefully.**

"**Yes?"**

"**Forgive me, but do you...sleep in the dress?"**

**Blushing, she was at a loss for words for a minute.**

"**...not when I'm with you," she answered warmly.**

**He only shook his head.**

"**I'm afraid I don't have anything to make this room pretty with. It all was lost in the explosion."**

**He paused. "I see. Well, I suppose you might feel rather swallowed up in here."**

**She nodded. "I like **_**your**_** rooms."**

"**And it does seem a bit cold in here."**

**She nodded again. "There's a draft from the window."**

"**So there is." He cleared his throat.**

"**What shall I do?" Her eyes were huge pools of love and adoration.**

"**There's only one thing to do."**

"**Yes?" She could hardly breathe.**

"**Your aunt has a lovely cottage on the grounds. Stay with her."**

**Laughing merrily, she hugged him tightly. "There's someone else I'd rather stay with."**

"**No."**

"**Please..."**

"I'm a confirmed bachelor. Too many bad habits."

She laughed. "I love you. And all of your habits."

"You need to stop saying that, Amelia."

"I know I do. I'll work on it."

"No you won't."

"Well, you're right. I won't."

"How can you possibly like my evil lair?"

"It's wonderful and scary."

"Well, all right. But it was all your idea."

"Of course."


	103. 2Chap74

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 74

"Well, you're already popular, at least," he grumbled, closing the door to the secret potions room.

Amelia's eyes clouded but she was so happy to see him she jumped up and gave him a huge hug.

"All of the exclusive_ Potter_ circle want you to go to the dance." His lips twisted into a frown.

Amelia smiled wryly.

Hastily, he handed her an apple, a sandwich and a piece of cake which he'd pilfered from the dining hall.

"Why, thank you," she smiled, and kissed his cheek.

"You have to stop doing that," he frowned.

"Why?"

"Because…we don't…"

"We don't what?"

"We don't really know each other."

Her eyes deepened. "Oh, I know you. Somehow I do."

He gazed at her for what seemed to be a long time. What an odd girl. So familiar with him – like she'd known him for years. With any other girl it would be inappropriate; even scandalous – but with her, it seemed so natural.

Then her smile faded just a bit. "But, Severus…I can't stay here in a dungeon. I think you know that."

He looked down. "Yes."

"They know of me. They know who I am, more than I know who I am. I'd better go to classes like everyone else."

His lips tightened.

"Why so serious?" she asked in concern.

He shrugged. "This is all so wrong. I know it. I don't think this is real. I don't think anything is right."

She took his hand. "I'll stick by you. We'll be careful."

He closed his tired eyes. "You'll be sitting by the _anointed ones _in no time."

"Why? I don't want to sit near them. Can't I sit beside you?"

He raked his hands through his hair. "Oh Amelia, Amelia, you don't understand anything. They'll kill me. They'll make fun; they'll torment us…we'll wish we were dead."

"All right, all right. I'll sit somewhere else."

"Good."

"It's settled." Her eyes sparkled.

* * *


	104. Book 2 Chapter 75

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 75

"No, no, and no."

Remus, Sirius and Peter frowned. Amelia sighed impatiently.

"Too hard to choose? We could all take you," Remus attempted.

"No, thank you." Amelia propped the potions book up in front of her to try to block them out.

"Why not?" Now Remus was sulking.

"Because I'm hoping for an invitation from someone else."

"God help us…not old Snape. You'll be waiting until you're 80." Sirius' eyes rolled.

"Then, I hope I can still dance when I'm 80."

Severus lurked behind the classroom door, a small smile on his lips; his mind racing in disbelief.

"What do you see in him?" Sirius asked gloomily.

Amelia blushed and smiled. "I think that's between Severus and myself."

"He's ugly as dirt – and his nose is longer than a Nimbus." James began to chuckle at his incredible wit.

Amelia bristled. "He has an intelligent nose – and he's handsome as an angel."

"He's strange…and grumpy," Peter frowned.

"That's just to hide his _inner demons_." Her eyes became dreamy.

There was an awkward silence.

"_Inner demons_? What on earth are _inner demons_?" Sirius asked.

Severus began to laugh and James glanced curiously over his way. Quickly, Severus bit his knuckles to stop.

Amelia sighed. "Inner demons are personal issues that one has to overcome. Things like a troubled childhood; anger; depression."

Sirius' forehead creased.

"But…he's totally in love with potions, and nothing else."

"I'll see if I can change that."

"He dresses like an undertaker."

"I love his black. It never goes out of style."

The threesome just stared at her, stupefied.

Her eyes twinkled.

James plowed in with another attempt, as if perhaps she hadn't been hearing them correctly. "His hair is greasy and unkempt."

"I think it's romantic."

"He consorts with snakes."

"They're not bad, once you get to know them."

Lilly, who was standing beside James, looked completely baffled, yet a bit unsure. How she knew this girl's name was Lilly, Amelia didn't know. But she knew it, like her own name.

Amelia flashed the girl a knowing smile.

"Lilly, I have one thing to say to you. I don't know how I know it, but I do."

"What?" Lilly asked anemically.

"You don't know what you're missing."

--

"Is this seat taken?" Minutes later, Amelia slipped into the seat right beside Snape. Actually there were several seats beside him empty – as if people wanted to keep their distance.

His lips tightened. "Yes, it's taken."

"Thank you." She fished inside of her book bag.

"Let's see…oh my, I don't have the proper books. May I look off of yours?"

He sighed deeply.

From across the room, eyes were riveted on them – and Snape knew it.

And he knew what would come. Whispers and snickers. Then comments between classes. Then notes and graffiti on bathroom stalls. Then, his head being forced into a latrine. God knew what after that. Visions of a tree somehow troubled him.

She leaned over to peer into his potions book. Formulas, chemical compositions, biology. It was going to be a tough year.

Biology...

Anatomy?

For a moment, she actually blacked out. White. White and green. Green rooms. Stainless steel. Sheets. White uniforms.

Rubbing her temples, she took a deep breath and Snape leaned forward to whisper to her. "What's wrong?"

"I keep having these little flashes," she whispered back. "I don't know why, or what they are."

"Oh Amelia. I have such a bad feeling about all of this," he replied darkly. "I'm scared…"

But then there was heavy silence. The door opened near the lectern and the instructor entered. A tall, dark man with piercing blue eyes.

He looked directly up at them both.


	105. Book 2 Chapter 76

BOOK 2: CHAPTER 76

Amelia shuddered, feeling icy fingers of terror creep from the pit of her stomach to the ends of her hair.

"Good morning, class," said the man. The man she knew, somehow. The only other man familiar to her beside Severus and possibly Remus.

Amelia's throat turned to sandpaper. His stare seemed to last for hours, not seconds. Hatred; disgust…all rolled into one cold, cruel stare.

Then, he smiled horribly. It may have just been a smile, but to her it was grotesque and terrifying. She'd seen this smile before, many times. But where?

"Today, class, we are going to talk about chaos witches. They're dangerous and crazy – and likely to kill you if you upset her. They're failures and disappointments in the normal course of life, so, over the centuries, they've resorted to a sort of magic that is out of control – perverted. They're abominations of magic – and need to be annihilated. If you ever see one amongst you – do not hesitate to report her."

He stared right into Amelia. His eyes blazed with the thrill of what he was doing.

Chaos? That word…she'd heard it often. And from this man. This man. He seemed so familiar…but not in a good way. Not in a warm way – in a regretful, sad, cold way.

"Amelia, I know who he is. I know who you are. We have to get out of here," Severus whispered in a panic. "We need to leave. Now."

"I've studied them. I've been exposed to them, and hardly lived to tell. Don't go near them. They'll lure you; and then they'll ruin you."

Amelia choked. Nausea was beginning to overcome her. Snape's forehead was dripping with perspiration. The room was hot and stuffy and beginning to spin.

"I repeat – if you ever see one, tell one of us. Tell me. Ask questions later. These witches can be used…for good purposes, also – but only by select wizards who know how."

Snape muttered a few words in Latin. Suddenly, the fire alarms began to sound. Before the cruel man could utter another word, Snape had whisked Amelia up and out of the room.


	106. Book 2 Chapter 77

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 77

Back safely in the secret potions closet, Amelia huddled on the makeshift bed Severus had gotten together for her.

"Oh my God…" Amelia sobbed. "My father…that horrible man is my father…"

Snape paced the floor and raked a hand through his hair.

Pausing through her tears, Amelia saw how wracked with concern and worry he was. How deeply this was disturbing him. And she paused.

Gazing at him with more love than she'd ever felt, she reached for his hand. Shyly, he took hers and knelt down beside her.

"I am so sorry this is so hard on you," she whispered.

"Oh Amelia…"

"No. It's true. I've been such trouble. I know I have. I know it somehow…I wish I could remember." More tears of frustration trickled down her cheeks.

"Amelia, please. It's no trouble."

She forced a smile, through her tears. "You're very sweet, and that is what makes this even harder."

Taking his long, thin hand, she kissed it gently. "The focus has been on me far too long. I want to end this wild goose chase."

"What…what are you talking about?" he managed.

"I want you to be able to concentrate on your life; on your powers and magical growth…not on me. I am an incredible burden."

"I don't like where I think this is going," he murmured.

"I'm a chaos witch, aren't I?"

"What difference does it make?"

"Only that I deserve to die."

Snape clasped his hands around hers in a death grip and cried out in frustration.

"No. No, you don't deserve death. He's wrong. Look at you. You're sweet and kind, and I love you."

He paused, his forehead creasing a million times.

What did he just say?

And the worst part was, it was so easy. Those three words. The

most powerful in any language. How easy and natural it felt to say them. He didn't feel embarrassed or awkward or any of those things. Even at seventeen, or was he older?

Sitting up, her mind strangely clear, she paused. "What did you say?" she whispered.

Uh-oh.

Now it felt awkward enough. Snape, you fool. How could this girl possibly reciprocate? You idiot.

He cleared his throat. "Pardon?"

"What did you say?" A smile was creeping across her lips.

"Say?" he stammered.

"Just a moment ago."

Snape bit his lip. "Let's see...I said that you don't deserve death…"

"No, that wasn't it."

His face began to turn a faint shade of pink.

She smiled in delight. "What did you say _after that_?"

"That your father was wrong…"

"A bit after that."

"That…the, er, breakfast oatmeal was sticky?"

She laughed merrily. "You said you loved me."

"No, I didn't."

"You did." Her eyes danced.

"You're becoming hysterical. I'll call the infirmary."

She sat up, her eyes now dark blue pools of pure adoration.

"I love you, too," she whispered.

His mouth fell open.

"All right, then. I'd best be getting to my dormitory."

"I love you. It's the only thing I know; that I remember. I know that we're connected. Somehow. A cosmic connection; a spiritual bond. Deeper than the seas; farther than the heavens…"

He took a deep breath. "Yes, well, see you at breakfast."

Her eyes deepened and she reached for his hand. "I'm far too upset to be alone."

"You're stronger than you know."

"No. I'm weak. I'm very weak."

"Chaos witches are made of iron."

"I'm putty in your hands."

"My God, you're wheedling."

"I'm just asking."

"You just want your way. And you just roll on and on like a locomotive. You'll never stop, will you?"

"I can't help it. Chaos witches are like that. Please, stay…"

"No, _Amelia_."

"Why not, _Severus_?"

"Because…"

Cupping his face in her hands, she looked deeply into his black eyes and let her lips tempt his.

"The focus has been on me far too long, Severus."

"What the devil are you talking about? What focus?"

She smiled patiently. "You know. The attention."

His pulse was leaping and a thin sheen of perspiration broke out on his forehead. "The focus is fine. Perfect."

"Tonight, all the focus will be on you."

His mouth dropped open in shock. She only giggled.

He attempted to speak – if he could only remember the English language. "I want…I mean I don't want. I mean…"

Drawing him down into a tight embrace, she drank from his lips as if it were, indeed, her last night to live.


	107. Book 2 Chapter 78

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 78

Snape stared exhaustedly at… the floor?

Lord, they were on the ceiling.

Amelia, half asleep, yawned and stretched, and wrapped herself around him, even tighter.

He stared; just stared. God, he was tired. He was tired because…

"Oh my God," he whispered. "Oh my God."

They fell with a clatter onto the bed, and she laughed and laughed and nuzzled his neck.

"Seventeen," he murmured, noticing his robes tossed in the far corner.

"I didn't think it was quite that many times, but you were a tiger," she whispered.

"I mean _we're_ seventeen! Amelia, what we did…my God, I can't believe it. We'll be expelled."

She blushed. "I just wanted the focus to be on you for awhile."

"Will you stop all this about focus. I don't need any focus."

"I think you do. Was the focus enough on you? I really tried…"

He sighed in exhaustion. "It was fine."

"I'm so glad. I was worried that…"

"You are insane. You are chaos."

"Sometimes chaos has benefits."

"Not when we're seventeen!"

She sighed. "We're not seventeen. Aren't we trapped in some spell? Didn't you say so?"

"I know, but…you seduced me. I was seduced by an evil chaos witch."

"I just wanted to repay you, for all of your help."

He snapped the quilt over his head.

Pulling it gently away, she kissed him. "I'm so glad you were my _first._"

There was a deep groan and he squeezed his eyes closed.

"Your…_first_?" he managed.

"Yes, indeed. I'll never forget it, as long as I live. It's etched on my soul; an historic night in the annals of my life."

"You know, you make these epic proclamations…like you're reciting the _Aeneid_ or something…"

"It was epic. Epic is a perfect word."

He rolled over and buried his head in the pillow.

But she just fell on top of him and kissed his neck.

"Was I _your_ first, Severus?"

He paused and turned back over. "A gentleman never discusses that."

"Oh, please…" she cajoled.

"You know there have been legions."

Laughing softly, she laid back in his arms. "You were my first - and will be my only."

"You ensnared me."

"Let's do this a lot."

"You're not even listening to me."

"And get married…"

"There must be something I can mix for hysteria…"

"And have lots of babies…"

"Perhaps a bit of gilliweed…"

But then, the words, and the mirth, died on her lips.

Babies?

That word. What was it about that word?

Searing pain tore through her entire body like a crack of lightning. She closed her eyes and her back arched.

Flashes.

A baby…but not just any baby. Their baby: laughing; wearing a little black cape; playing with pythons; flinging stones with his…father.

A sob from the depths of her soul rose up and escaped through her lips. Snape scrutinized her face. All of the happiness had drained in an instant, replaced by agony.

"Severus Jr.," she whispered. "My God, where is he?"


	108. Book 2 Chapter 79

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 79

"That's quite enough," Remus groaned, turning away from the massive crystal ball back in the Kansas safehouse.

Elvira chewed on a long fingernail and shook her head. Casually, almost without thinking, Remus observed her.

Not bad, really.

How dreadfully those Hollywood films could distort the truth. Her skin wasn't all _that_ green, and she looked much younger in person.

He shook his head to break the chain of thought. Remus, really, don't be a fool.

"We haven't a clue where they really are," he said glumly. "It's definitely the past…but not the real past."

"I've got them in the crystal. That's a good first step," Elvira answered.

"Couldn't we use the Time Turner, Miss Granger?" Lupin asked.

Hermione, sitting by the fire, shrugged. "I've already tried, sir. I've looked in the past. There's no Amelia. No father. Just Professor Snape, drearily doing his potions work."

"Damn."

"This seems to be a past; a parallel world, if you will, that the father created," Hermione offered. "If he couldn't thwart her, or both of them, in the present, he'd do it in some kind of past."

"How the hell can we get to them?" Remus asked helplessly. "Poor Amelia's remembered about the baby. She'll tear herself to pieces over him. Living without her baby will ruin her. The father truly will win."  
"If we only had a link. A link to that world," Elvira murmured.

"What about those slippers?" Remus asked. "Aren't they supposed to have transportation power?"

"You need more," Elvira said in frustration. "You need a link."

"What?" Hermoine questioned. "Dorothy didn't have a link to Oz."

"Oh? What am I, sliced liver? Dorothy had me as a link. Darned girl saw me in a twister and followed me."

"That's the silliest thing I've ever heard," Hermione scoffed. "I've 

read all of the Oz books and…"

"Book-learning isn't everything," Elvira said bitingly.

"How could she follow you through a tornado?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"Because she's a witch in her own right."

"What? She's an ordinary farm-girl from Kansas."

"So was I." Elvira grinned smugly.

"Ladies, ladies, we're not getting anywhere. We need to get Amelia out of that world, and the sooner the better."

"And Professor Snape," Elvira reminded him.

"Oh yes, yes," Remus murmured off-handedly.

"What about the baby?" Hermione wondered aloud. "He certainly has a link to his mother and father."

Remus paused thoughtfully.

"He may be our only hope," Remus murmured.

"She'll tear herself and Severus apart in no time," Remus worried aloud. "The baby is her life. Oh God, this is just as bad as it can be."

"Patience, patience," Elvira chided. "Let the obnoxious girl go fetch the baby. He's our one hope."

Hermione paused. "Why me?"

"Because you have the slippers and they'll take you to Hogwarts fastest."

Hermione crossed her arms in mild distaste. "Miss Gulch, we apparate. We don't use slippers or broomsticks for long-distance travel."

Elvira gave Hermione a long look.

"Are all of the Hogwarts students as impudent as this one?" she asked Remus. "I've been using good, old-fashioned broomsticks all my life."

Remus smothered a smile. Hermione frowned.

"Potter will, no doubt, want to accompany the baby back here," Remus noted. "He's Severus Jr.'s godfather."

Elvira shrugged impatiently. "So be it. Let's just go get them."

--

"We have a baby, Severus," Amelia cried, pacing the floor of the secret potions closet. "My baby…oh my God, my poor baby."

Severus, seeing the torment in her eyes; the raw, maternal instinct laid wide open at its best – clenched his fists and swore loudly.

"I've had enough of his threats and his terrorism," Severus said darkly. "I'm going to end this, now; even if I die trying."

With that, he tore out of the chamber, up the winding stairway and through the cavernous corridors and cloisters – not knowing exactly where he was going, but wanting to comb the castle for his prey.

If only Remus were here, he thought angrily. If only Remus were here, he could sniff the bastard out; he'd be right on his scent.

What Severus did not know was that Amelia was right behind him, hurrying to keep pace and gasping for breath. Her hair was a frightening mess, and she looked more like a vampire than anything else, with her pale skin and hollowed, tired eyes.

"Where are you going?" Amelia cried, doing her best to keep up. Her heart was jumping out of her chest and her mind burned with white-hot fires of desperation.

Her baby. Her precious baby. Memories were flooding back rapidly now: flashes of Severus Jr., his birth, his beautiful smile, her wedding, her mother, the death, the yellow room, her father. All in crazy, mixed-up flashes.

"Let me see my father," she hissed. "I'll kill him myself. I want my baby."

"Let me lead, Amelia," Severus ordered her. "Let me. I want the baby back, too. Hold my hand. Don't listen to his lies. Your mother didn't kill herself. She didn't. There was magical poison in her bloodstream – the autopsy showed it."

"Oh really…" came a smooth drawl from somewhere behind a distant column.

The voice was pleasant and mild. A handsome man stepped out from behind the column and smiled.

Amelia stopped, dead.

Her father.

Severus gripped her hand and held her fast.

"I've been looking for you, Amelia," her father said.

"Let me get back to my baby," she growled.

"That's amusing, my dear. You're not fit to care for a baby. You couldn't even care for your mother, when she was sick and needed you."

The words pierced her heart like an arrow, and she closed her eyes, a wave of nausea and remorse washing over her.

"You liar," Snape barked. "You poisoned her mother; and committed your daughter to an institution. You're afraid of them. Terrified. Any fool could see that."

Her father just smiled. "Amelia, come with me. Leave this man and come with me. If you do, the baby can come, too. He's powerful, like you. We can use you for our cause – the cause of justice and order."

"The Deatheaters' cause?" Snape scoffed. "You mean the cause of death and despotism."

"Amelia, I have someone here you might be interested to see," her father smiled.

With that, he pulled out another figure; that of a woman. A woman with long, dark hair and melancholy eyes.

Her mother.

"Amelia…why, why?" the woman asked sadly.

Amelia faced her mother, though the woman was years younger – as they all were. Beautiful, graceful, kind…it was all there.

"Mother," she whispered.


	109. Book 2 Chapter 80

_Hello, fellow Snape fans! Sorry I was slow in submitting this chapter but I've been drowning in accounting finals, etc. I now hope to have a regular submission schedule. Hope you enjoy this and have a Snapish day!_

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 80

"Mother, mother…" Amelia sobbed, bursting forward to clutch the woman's hands.

To her relief, her mother did not recoil, and her father looked a bit surprised at that.

In this bizarre world of past and present, Anna was still quite young – perhaps only in her early 20s. To Amelia, she was the most beautiful woman on earth. An angel. An angel who was still staring at Amelia in a mixture of belief and doubt.

"Please," Anna attempted delicately, "who are you? What is your name?"

"Don't worry about her name, Anna," hissed her father. "She's a chaos witch; your daughter. She neglected you, and she killed you."

Anna paused. Amelia burst into sobs.

Her father laughed in his superiority. "See her crying, Anna? She's sobbing out of shame, but not guilt that she neglected you; just the shame that you now know the truth."

Snape's eyes crackled with hatred. How deeply he wanted to kill this man. To utter the curse so many of his comrades had said in, well, the darker times. But Amelia had had enough death for one lifetime. And with her conscience, she'd find a way to twist the death spell into being her fault.

Desperately, Severus struggled to remember a spell; any spell, which would shut this man up - which would give Amelia and her mother a little time together; a little time to talk, and to possibly, in some crazy way, close this matter for once and for all.

"Amelia, you must come with us. You must come with us and leave this man," her father beckoned softly. "Only we know how to take care of you. Only we can keep you safe; and keep you from hurting 

others with your powers." His voice was oddly kind, with a sickening steeliness beneath.

Tears streamed from Amelia's eyes. "Oh mother, I'm so sorry for everything I've done or not done. Please, please forgive me. I didn't know you were so sick. You never told me you were in such pain. I came home from work as quickly as I could…"

"You have nothing to apologize for. He killed her, Amelia; not you," Snape urged. "_He_ killed her. You must believe that. You're letting him get to you."

Anna's face deepened as she studied Amelia closely. Over her shoulder, Snape could make out the dimness of the hallway, and prayed for a proper spell. At last, he remembered. Unable to think of anything better, he took a breath.

"Confundo," he whispered, and, for lack of a wand, pointed his finger at her father.

Her father blinked, blinked again and shook his head in apparent confusion. Snape bit his lip, hoping against hope he still had enough power to make the charm stick. Even if he had, who knew how much time they just got or when the charm would wear off.

"Amelia," he whispered. "Take your mother and run. It may be your only chance to set things straight."

"Oh God," Lupin muttered, leaving the crystal ball and pacing the floor, "Oh God. He's getting to her through the mother."

Elvira sighed. "He's a master at guilt, I'll give him that."

Lupin snapped around toward her. "Send me. Send me. I'll kill him. I'll…"

Elvira shook her head. "Not so fast. Not so fast. We can't send anybody anywhere until we get Potter and the baby. What on earth is taking them so long?"

As if to answer her question, there was a pounding on the door. Lupin leapt to open it, and there, as if in answer to his prayers, stood Harry, holding Severus Jr.

"Sorry we're a bit late," Harry offered. "The port key wouldn't work beyond New York; something about Dumbledore neglecting to 

renew our American traveling licenses. Anyway, we got here on the first plane we could."

"He's getting tighter every day," Elvira grumbled.

Harry nodded. "It's absolutely true. I was just talking to him about that and…"

"Please…" urged Lupin. "Time is of the essence. Please, Elvira…send us to them."

Nodding, Elvira took up her wand, threw a few ingredients into a nearby cauldron, and lit the fire.

"Give me the baby, Potter, and take my hand," she said darkly.


	110. Book 2 Chapter 81

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 81

Tearing blindly through the corridors, Amelia nearly crushed her mother's hand in hers as she pulled her along. Without really knowing where she was going, she somehow managed to find the secret potions closet.

There wasn't much time, if any. The charm might work, it might not – who could say?

Once inside, Amelia threw the door closed with a boom, while Anna stood, panting – and studying Amelia with frightened eyes.

"Please," Anna attempted, trying to catch a breath, "who are you, really? What is your name? What do you want?"

Although she was clearly confused, her mother did not seem fearful or resentful – just deeply concerned. Kind and concerned.

"My name is Amelia, and I am your daughter," Amelia answered. "Oh mother, I'm so sorry for neglecting you. Please, please forgive me."

Anna's face softened. "I don't know what you're talking about. Forgive you for what?"

"You were…I mean, you became ill…in the future. Very ill. I lived with you then. I took care of you; but I went to work that night. I was a nurse. I went to work…and then I came home…and you'd done it. You'd…" She clapped a hand over her mouth.

"I'd done…what?" Anna whispered.

"You had…you'd killed yourself; only now Severus says you didn't kill yourself; that it was poison – oh God…I just want you back. I just want you with us. I'm so sorry." She burst into sobs.

The woman slipped her arm around Amelia's shoulders and sat beside her on the makeshift bed.

"Calm down, dear," she whispered. "We'll straighten this out. Please, don't get so upset."

After a few moments, struggling to regain her composure, if that were ever possible again, Amelia went on.

"Mother, you are so beautiful…I miss you so much," Amelia attempted. "I have a son, Severus Jr., and he's an angel. Oh mother, he's 

an angel, and he has your smile."

Anna nodded curiously. Suddenly, Amelia remembered her locket. The precious locket Severus had given her at Christmas, back in New Mexico. Perhaps that would convince Anna that she was telling the truth.

Clicking it open, she showed Anna the little picture of them both on the porch of their Kansas home; and the picture of Severus Jr. she'd pasted on the opposite panel.

"I know you," Anna said thoughtfully. "I do know you, but I don't know how."

"We don't have much time," Amelia whispered. "My father, the man you are going to marry…he'll be here soon."

Anna paused, half believing, half doubting, Anna knelt beside her.

"Please, dear, calm down. How can I be your mother? You're all grown up."

Amelia nodded. "I know. I know. I'm from a different time – and even a different reality, I think. It's all so mixed up. But please…you mustn't marry that man. He'll make you miserable; he'll ruin your life and your magic. At least in this dimension, wherever we are, you deserve to be happy."

"He's my fiancé. He's asked me to marry him. I've said yes."

Amelia's eyes glittered with fear and dread. "Mother, he is a Deatheater. He hates chaos witches because he's afraid of us. He'll wear you down, he'll ruin you. Please, I'm begging you to run. Run as far away from him as you can."

Anna was thoughtful. "That's what Minerva always says. But…how do you know I'm a chaos witch?"

Amelia pressed her hand against her cheek. "I am one, too. And you're one. He's trying to kill me, or lock me away in Azkaban, or an asylum."

Anna's eyes clouded and she stiffened just a bit.

Amelia dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. "My husband, Severus, has been wonderful about my magic, but yours won't be. I want to warn you."

Anna took Amelia's hands into her own. "You are very, very 

sweet," she said. "I'd like to think you're my daughter."

"I am - always," Amelia said urgently. "And we all love you so much. Just…take care of yourself. Minerva loves you, too. Listen to her - for your own sake."

There was a brief pause.

"I will, dear," Anna answered with belief in her voice; belief that made Amelia's heart stop pounding so hard.

"I love you, mother," Amelia wept. "I love you so much. I didn't' mean to neglect you. I swear it on my life."

Anna looked at the locket again, at the two of them in Kansas.

"I have a feeling you couldn't neglect anyone," Anna said kindly. "I'll always be with you, Amelia, always."


	111. Book 2 Chapter 82

My dear Readers,

I am sorry this installment has taken so long to submit. I must admit, I am a bit confused as to which road to take in this story. You see, I like writing the romance and the sex, but as for the adventure…well, it just isn't as fun as writing the romance and the sex.  I figure something is better than nothing – so I respectfully file this short chapter. I will wrestle with the plot and submit further chapters in a timelier manner. Thanks for reading. Love, Adele

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 82

"Oh my heavens, I feel sick," Hermione groaned as they floated inside the great cyclone.

"We're in a twister. Of course you'll feel sick," Elvira chided. "Just don't let go of my hand."

Elvira, Hermione, Lupin, Harry and the baby clutched one another for dear life as they whirled here and there and everywhere in the great cyclone that was, they prayed, taking them to where they should go.

For a few moments, things would speed up; who knew how fast they were spinning in the conjured cyclone? Then, things would slow down, as if the tornado were making up its crazy mind. But what was fast and what was slow blurred in their minds as they were carried to, well, the place where they all hoped to find Severus and Amelia.

"Ugh," groaned Lupin, hitting the floor.

"Ugh," groaned Harry and Hermione.

"Ugh," groaned Elvira.

"Whee," cooed Severus Jr.

Slowly, dizzily, they looked around. They soon became aware they were in a dark room. A claustrophobic, close room with racks of bottles, cylinders, jars and other containers. Cobwebs encased many of the items, which seemed to teeter on their racks.

"Where are we?" Elvira whispered, straightening her now-crooked hat.

"I think we're in a potions closet," Hermione whispered. "Back at Hogwarts."

Lupin lit a match and the room blazed before them in a combination of light and shadows.

"I don't see them. I don't know if we came to the right place," he groaned. "How in the hell will we know?"

"Mama," whispered Severus Jr., pointing to a corner.

There, in that corner, lay a piece of black lace.

Harry picked it up and the baby reached for it at once. It smelled faintly of the rosewater fragrance Amelia used.

"It…it could be part of her dress," Harry whispered urgently. "The lace she sewed on. You know, to patch the holes."

Lupin nodded. "The fabric looks quite worn. Perhaps it is a piece of her dress."

"Let's get out of here," Harry whispered. "We may not have much time if her father's nearby."

"But Hogwarts is enormous," Hermione reminded him. "How on earth will we find them?"

"The baby may be our only hope. Let's pray he can lead us to them."

Remus smiled a bit wistfully. "Tonight, the moon is full; I can help find them, too," he said. "…by their scents."


	112. Book 2 Chapter 83

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 83

Amelia was about to go on when she winced. Grasping her throat, she felt a sharp tightening – a burning – all around her neck.

"Amelia, what is it?" her mother asked.

"I can hardly breathe," Amelia answered, her voice just a whisper. "It's not me, though. It's Severus."

"Severus?" her mother asked.

"I can tell he's in danger. I know it. This pain isn't mine. It's…his."

"Then take us to him," Anna urged. "Try to relax. Try, dear, try. I'll help you."

Amelia nodded, but it was difficult to remain calm, as she felt herself going in and out of dizziness.

"He's in danger," Amelia insisted. "He's with my father."

Anna sighed deeply and shook her head. "How could I have misread him so? Oh Amelia, I'm so sorry for the pain you had to endure because of him."

Amelia smiled weakly. "It was all worth it in the end, mother. It led me to Severus."

"Let's just hope you can lead us to him now," Anna said darkly.

"I'm turning," Lupin stated calmly and both Harry and Elvira instinctively backed away.

Lupin merely smiled. "Oh, don't look so afraid. Because of my beloved Amelia, there are no worries. I can control myself in that state."

"We _hope_," Harry muttered, clenching his wand just in case.

Elvira scowled. "_Beloved Amelia_…I could have done the same for you. It's not such a difficult charm."

Lupin paused and studied her expression. Was that a pinch of jealousy? Hmm…interesting. Made her skin just a tinge greener.

"Miss Gulch, are you possibly jealous?" Lupin chided as his fingers began to turn to claws.

"Hogwash," she retorted.

Lupin smiled to himself and began to sprout fur and fangs.

"I know where he is," Amelia said in panic. "The tree: that horrible tree those boys strung him to...that horrible night. Oh God…my poor Severus. We have to save him."

"We will; we will," Anna managed, running along at her side.

Down the labyrinth of the castle hallways they ran. Amelia stumbled often, as her breath and her dizziness seemed to come and go with the horrible clenching and unclenching of her throat.

At last, they threw open a side door and ran out into the cool night air.

There, on a small hill, stood the tree; and there was Snape, with a rope around his neck.

"I'll do it right this time," Amelia's father said neatly, as he tied Snape's hands behind his back. "Your enemies at school were cowards, Severus. They hanged you by your feet when they should have hanged you by your neck. I'll rectify their mistake in due course."

Searching his memory for any kind of charm or hex or spell or curse, Snape began to panic.

"You miserable failure of a man," her father went on in a hiss, "…first a Hogwarts student; then a Deatheater; then a spy; then husband to a chaos witch. Good God, you don't know what you want – or whose side you're on."

"I want Amelia," Snape spat back in hatred.

"Well, you're not going to have her," he answered just as hatefully. "You fool. She's evil and the child is evil and only the dark lord can use them for any good. Don't you see that?"

"I've heard all of this nonsense before," Snape hissed. "Experiamus!"

A crack of energy flew from Snape's hand and hit the father squarely in the chest, sending him flying into a patch of bushes.

"You won't be saying that again" her father hissed, as he lurched forward and grabbed hold of the rope to hoist Snape up to a branch.

Then it finally dawned on Snape. Something he'd laughed at for so long, for their entire marriage, actually, but now realized could save them. Albus' words came flooding back to him. The marriage bond.

"You're the fool," Snape laughed. "Your daughter and I have a bond. A bond in marriage. If you kill me, you'll probably kill her and most likely, kill our son."

"Yes, father," Amelia called as they arrived at the tree. "You'll kill all of us."

Her father paused.

"And the dark lord will not be pleased, will he?" Snape asked.

Her father whipped around and glared at Amelia with eyes mixed with hatred and fear and repulsion – all in one hideous stare.

"If you hang my husband, I'll die and you'll have killed me," Amelia said with a weak but firm smile.

Her father paused. Anna stepped out and looked at her fiance in disbelief.

"Who are you?" Anna whispered, studying him in horrified confusion.

Her father paused. A paradox. The marriage bond. He'd forgotten that damned bond.


	113. Book Note

Dear cherished Readers,

Just a note to say I haven't abandoned you or the book. It's just that…I'm a bit stumped on how to continue. My husband warned me against doing time-travel, but did I listen? I'm just about ready to write: "and then they woke up," but I can't! I won't! Anyway, thanks for hanging in there. Love, Adele


	114. Book 2 Chapter 84

_Hi everyone. Well, you're either going to love me or hate me after this one, so here goes! Love, Adele_

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 84

Amelia continued to fight for breath while the noose tightened around her husband's neck.

"Just let my husband go," Amelia managed, trying not to scream in horror.

Her father's eyes were slits of hatred.

"Dad, I can't breathe. I can't breathe," she begged, actually feeling the cord tighten around her neck as it really tightened around Snape's neck.

Her father glanced back at Severus and then at his daughter.

"Damn you both." He knotted the noose around Snape's throat and with one kick, Snape was hanging.

Amelia clutched her throat as her windpipe was sealed and Anna screamed in terror.

Just then, Lupin, barking and snarling, bounded into view and leapt into the air, biting the rope and snapping it, while Harry, Hermione, Elvira and the baby looked on.

Elvira knelt down beside Amelia, who was going in and out of consciousness, and did her best to get Amelia to breathe.

Severus Jr. smiled brightly.

"Daddy," he exclaimed, recognizing his father, even though his father was only seventeen.

The noose was rapidly strangling Snape, but he looked down upon his son and bit his lip until it bled, stifling a sob that was fighting its way to his lips.

"Keep away," Amelia's father hissed, his eyes narrowing at the child.

"Daddy?" Severus Jr. asked, now in more concern.

"Say it, darling," Anna urged Severus Jr. "Say it for your daddy. Repeat after me…experiamus…"

Pointing his wand at Lupin, Amelia's father was not, for the 

moment, looking at Anna or the baby.

"Experiamus," said Severus Jr., in a sweet but rather pointed tone.

A clap of lightning broke the thick night air and Amelia's father went flying back, hitting the trunk of the tree. Harry, in a moment of inspiration, jumped forward and untied the noose, while Severus crashed to the ground in a semi-conscious heap.

Suddenly, amid all of the roaring chaos, something smooth and soft filtered over the scene.

"What's going on here? A hanging and I wasn't invited? How inconsiderate of you, John," came the calm, even voice.

It was none other than…Voldemort, himself. And everyone knew it - except Amelia.

Harry's mouth fell open in disbelief and horror and he instantly pointed his wand in the dark lord's direction.

"Voldemort," he whispered.

Amelia, stunned and still struggling to breathe, could only stare curiously at what, through her eyes, was not some horrifying spectre of evil - but only a vaguely familiar man.

Funny, she thought distractedly, he didn't look so bad, despite everything people had said. Rather dapper, actually, in a well tailored, pin-striped suit, cravat and starched black shirt. But who was he? He looked so familiar…

"John, you can't do anything right," Voldemort added, shaking his head wearily. "And Potter, if you try anything with that wand, I'll kill you."

Harry scowled and lowered the wand.

"So, we finally meet, Miss Amelia," Voldemort said easily, looking her way. "A true chaos witch. How exciting."

Ignoring him, Amelia ran over to Severus and knelt beside him, cupping his ashen face in her hands.

"It's quite an honor, really," Voldemort continued. "Your kind are very rare…and very valuable."

She shrugged and nodded a bit awkwardly. He looked so familiar…

"Amelia, your husband has been one of our finest spies. You're a 

chaos witch. Really, let's just stop all of this terrorism and try to be civilized. I wish to extend you an invitation to join our cause: the cause of magical justice and purity."

It began to dawn on her. This man was…_him_? The supreme dark lord? The prince of fear…Satan's right hand man?

Strange, Voldemort didn't look like Satan in her eyes. He looked like your garden-variety handsome man: tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed and…wait.

No, it couldn't be.

But it was. _He_ was.

She squinted, blinked a few times, and then nearly fell over. Good God, his name wasn't Voldemort at all.

His name was Tom. Tom Riddle.

She knew he looked familiar. Tom Riddle from Kansas! Tom Riddle from the hospital - who took her to lunch in the cafeteria; and took her riding, even dancing…and then disappeared.

"Tom?" she barely croaked.

"Amelia," he murmured, just barely nodding.

"Tom Riddle?" she asked.

"That's his birth name, Mrs. Snape," Hermione interjected. "Until he became…Voldemort."

Amelia's eyes narrowed as she studied the man.

"You…jerk!" she cried. "_Voldemort_? What the hell kind of name is that? You always had such an ego…"

Voldemort clenched his hands uncertainly.

A flush rushed across Amelia's cheeks and her eyes flared until they were almost green.

"Tom Riddle…well, well. It's been awhile, hasn't it?" she scowled.

"Amelia…" Tom-Voldemort attempted.

Snape's eyes clouded. Remus' mouth dropped open and he whimpered.

"You…lied to me. You manipulated me," Amelia cried.

"No. No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. And now I find out you're the dark lord. You…you 

told me you were a doctor!"

"Oh God," Voldemort groaned.

"I was just a young, innocent nursing student."

"You didn't look that young…"

"What?" she exclaimed.

"I mean…oh, lord..." He looked down at his shoes.

"You told me you'd call…"

"Well, I…"

"…and you never did!"

"But I…"

But Amelia was too far gone. The runaway train that was her temper had broken loose from the tracks.

"When I think about those things you said to me; how I was your special girl – how you'd never leave me – and how close we came to…ugh!" She crossed her arms kicked the tree trunk.

Remus bit his lip - smothering a smile and a growing need to, well, howl with laughter.

Amelia shook her head in exasperation. "Tom, you said you'd call – just as soon as you got back from helping those children in the Congo."

"I-I didn't exactly make it to the Congo," he answered.

"You mean to say that all of that was a lie? That you were really organizing Deatheaters instead of working with the Peace Corps?"

"Now Amelia, I did write a check to the Peace Corps."

"A check?" she thundered.

"I just…didn't think you'd understand about my real vocation."

"I understand one thing. You never called."

"I, er, have a crazy schedule." Voldemort was actually sweating.

Her lips tightened. "And I wasn't busy? I was a nursing student, but I made time for you. Why? Because I _cared_."

"Amelia, please. Don't hold a grudge. I was very attracted to you."

"You used me. And you left me."

"Please, Amelia, be reasonable," Voldemort cajoled. "I did have feelings for you, but you know how it is. I had the army and the spies and so many other things to worry about. It just wouldn't have worked. 

It wasn't you. It was me."

"Oh my God," she groaned. "You, the supreme dark lord, using the oldest cliche in the history of clichés."

"When I got to know you, well, I knew you wouldn't join my cause of your own accord. We Deatheaters have been victims of a libelous press and slanted publicity, so most people have a warped view of our operations."

"Oh please," she growled, her eyes rolling.

"So, I knew I'd have to get to you the hard way. I enlisted your father to help me. But he botched things, as usual."

"Fine," she seethed. "Well, Tom, I've moved on. I found Severus. Please, just leave me alone."

"Amelia," he continued to cajole. "Please. Let's just let the past stay in the past and start fresh."

Her eyes rolled. "You only want me for my powers."

"No. I swear."

Elvira bit on a long fingernail and eased in closer to Lupin.

"This is better than lighting that worthless scarecrow on fire," she whispered with a cackle.

Amelia was not amused.

"To think I trusted you, Tom. I trusted you to be a gentleman. And now, you're not only terrorizing my family and friends – you only want me back because of my ridiculous powers."

Voldemort paused.

"They're not ridiculous," he said darkly.

Severus glanced at the rope and then up at Harry.

"Why don't you just tie this around my neck and finish the job, Potter," Snape suggested, sighing deeply.

"You should really think about it, Amelia," Voldemort attempted gingerly. "I'll even throw in tuition for _all_ of your children at our new academy. I'll wager old Dumbledore wouldn't do that."

Snape's ears perked up. Free tuition? Not bad. Rather tempting. Good grief, he suddenly thought, what am I thinking…

"No, thank you," Amelia replied. "You know, when I think about it, I'm glad it didn't work out. I met Severus and he showed me what 

love was. We're married and we have a beautiful baby and I want nothing to do with you."

"Funny, as jealous as she was of mine, she never talked of her past love life," Snape mused.

"Amelia…wooed by _him_. Good God, this could only happen to me."


	115. Book 2 Chapter 85

_Hi everyone. Sorry for the delay. I'm deep into accounting courses again. I'm lucky this isn't just some ledger that says:_

Snape potions supplies 8,000

Accounts Payable8,000

_(That's an accounting joke for those of you in the biz) Anyway, I hope you remember a little about my story and enjoy this chapter. _

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 85

"But master," insisted Amelia's father, "don't you want her? She could be very powerful, and very useful, to our cause."

"I won't go," Amelia spat back. "I have a son to take care of. You'll have to kill me first."

Voldemort's face hardened. It was a familiar hardness. There had always been something hard in Tom's eyes. Now Amelia knew why it was there. Although, because of her strange powers, she could never see the horror of how Voldemort truly looked; even the Tom Riddle appearance did not hide the harshness in the eyes.

"Fine. You can all just stay here – trapped in this alternate world – trapped in the past and your marriage bond," Voldemort seethed. "If you were to come with me, perhaps you could return. In either case, I'll know where to find you. John, I'll deal with you later."

"But…"Snape persisted, but Voldemort would hear none of it. In a flash of fire and smoke, he was gone.

A few agonizing moments passed. Amelia's father crumpled down onto the ground, moaning in the trepidation of what the dark lord was planning for him.

"So, now what do we do?" Lupin asked in hushed tones so Amelia's father would not hear. "How do we get out of this strange world?"

Amelia stood beside Severus, holding the baby and trying to soothe him.

"He's hungry," she said worriedly. "I'm only seventeen. I can't feed him in this state. What'll I do?"

"Miss Gulch, might I make a suggestion?" Hermione interjected delicately.

Elvira frowned. "Have we a choice?"

Sloughing off the remark, Hermione glanced down.

"My slippers, Miss Gulch; they might just do the job. After all, as Frank Baum wrote in his famous history books, the ruby slippers have awesome powers. They got Dorothy back from Oz. Why not us?"

Elvira frowned. "First, they're not _your_ slippers. Second, that traitor had no right to write those things. Frank Baum brought so much publicity to Kansas and all of us – I thought we'd be ruined for sure."

Hermione shrugged.

Elvira's eyes sparked with growing resentment. "Think of it. It would be as bad as if some turncoat wizard wrote a detailed anthology about you all and life at Hogwarts. Think of the devastation."

"I know," Lupin agreed. "Everyone knowing about our world…"

"Everyone trying to get to Hogwarts. Searching all over England for it," Hermione thought aloud.

"Films - and actors playing us…I'm so glad we've managed to keep our world secret," Lupin added.

"Yes," Harry groaned. "Think of some actor getting all the attention and accolade that rightly belongs to me."

"Accolade," Snape muttered. "Laughter, you mean."

Amelia nodded thoughtfully. "And those actors would make so much money - money that _we _deserve. That doesn't seem fair, does it, Severus?"

Snape's eyes rolled. "Can we return to the subject of getting home."

"True, true," Amelia murmured. "Still, those actors earn a lot of money…that we could certainly use for tuition…"

"The girl does have a point," Elvira finally agreed. "The slippers could get us back to Kansas, at least. I actually enchanted them to return to Kansas when they get lost."

"But, Miss Granger is wearing them," Snape observed. "And, as 

much as it would be nice to live in a world without her – how do we get back, as well?

"The same way we got here," Elvira answered. "Join hands and use the slippers. They always go back to their origin."

"Then let's do it, for God's sake, and get out of here," Snape urged. "I was seventeen once, and that was once too much."


	116. Book 2 Ending

_Hi everyone. Well, this is it. It may resemble another novel, though I doubt you'll be able to tell (ha-ha). Thanks for sticking with this book through all its ups and downs. I'm going to try to write another when I think up enough plot for poor Severus and Amelia to go through. Until then, much love - Adele_

BOOK 2 CHAPTER 87

Hands. Hands everywhere, clenching, clenching clenching - as they spun around and around in a crazy whirlwind that seemed to go on forever.

The cyclone reminded Hermione of being flung madly around by the Whomping Willow that terrifying evening they found Sirius Black. It reminded Severus of being hung from the tree, flailing wildly in the wind. It reminded Lupin of the feeling he got just before he would turn to a wolf – the storm in his head, the cyclone in his mind. As for Harry, the twister put thoughts in his head, as well. Thoughts of falling – falling through the air on enchanted broomsticks – aiming for certain death. And Amelia – she could only close her eyes and pray – as the twister reminded her of another firestorm that came one night not so long ago, when their little farmhouse blew up.

In a way, the twister was her life – a crazy mixture of horrible and wonderful. How much upheaval; how much chaos. If only there was a place to rest. Chaos had been blowing through her life since she could remember. How she wished it would stop.

Gradually, the whirling stopped, but it was not a nice feeling. The feeling of whirling was merely replaced by a sickening feeling of falling. Falling and falling into an unknown void. Could anyone catch them? Would anyone want to?

--

When Amelia opened her eyes she could see only vague images fluttering here and there. Actually her hearing came back first. Vaguely familiar voices filtered through her consciousness. Some voices high-pitched, others low and soothing.

The room was large and made of stone, but seemed to lack any color at all. Just shades of gray, black and white. Like an old black and white photograph.

In the bed next to her lay a tall man in black – and she smiled. No longer was he 17, but he was even more handsome, and she knew she loved him a great deal. His eyes began to open, and he looked around the room curiously.

"Amelia, Amelia…it's me…Aunt Minerva," came the soft, familiar voice from the foot of the bed. There, seated on the quit, was her beloved aunt, smiling kindly.

"Wake up, honey," Minerva urged.

"There's no place like Hogwarts…" Amelia muttered.

"Amelia, Amelia, dear. It's me, Aunt Minerva, darling."

Amelia's eyes finally opened to their fullest and she smiled brilliantly. "Oh, Aunt Minerva, it's you!"

"Yes, darling."

The curtain opened just a bit and Professor Dumbledore peeked inside. "Hello there. Anyone home? I just dropped by because I heard Amelia got caught in the big…."

Minerva gave him a halting glance and shook her head to shush him.

"I mean – she seems all right now," Dumbledore fumbled.

Minerva smiled and adjusted Amelia's pillow, taking her hand as she sat back down beside her.

"She got quite a bump on the head, actually. We rather thought, for awhile, she was going to leave us." Minerva put a new compress on Amelia's forehead.

Snape looked over and frowned. Minerva cleared her throat. "And, of course, Severus. We were worried about him."

Albus quickly nodded. "Desperately."

Amelia leaned forward. "But we did leave you, Aunt Minerva and Professor Dumbledore…that's just the trouble. And we tried to get back for days and days."

Minerva nodded. "There, there. Lie quiet now. You just had a bad dream."

"Why is everything in black and white?" Severus muttered with a critical glance around the chamber.

"Madame Pomfrey said it could be a symptom of concussion. You'll be good as new in no time," Minerva answered.

"We were trying to catch my father…and the twister came," Amelia attempted. "It wasn't a dream. It was a place back in time. And Harry, Hermione and Professor Lupin were there."

Albus smiled and took a puff of his pipe. Minerva nodded. "We dream lots of silly things when we -"

"No, Aunt Minerva -- this was a real, truly live place. And I remember that some of it wasn't very nice...but most of it was beautiful and Severus was very young and handsome. But just the same, all I kept saying to everybody was, I wanted to go home."

Albus and Minerva laughed softly.

"And Miss Gulch sent us home."

Albus stiffened. "Miss Gulch? Elvira Gulch?"

Amelia nodded.

"I'd read she was dead," Albus remarked softly.

"Can't believe everything we read in the papers, now can we?" came the brittle, crackly voice of Elvira Gulch, as she peeked in the hospital window. "Hello Albus; Minerva. Thought I'd fly east and come a'calling. Your Miss Granger seems to have forgotten to return my slippers."

"Oh heavens," Albus muttered.

Just then Hermione (sparkling in the ruby slippers), Harry and Ron appeared, Severus Jr. resting contentedly in Harry's arms. Lupin was right behind them.

"Doesn't anybody believe me?" Amelia sighed, taking Severus Jr. into her embrace.

Severus gazed over at her and shook his head in exasperation.

Albus smiled. "Of course we believe you, Amelia."

Amelia kissed the baby's head. "Anyway, Severus, we're home."

"And your father is back there, somewhere," Elvira winked.

Amelia sat up and her eyes danced with happiness. "Hogwarts. And this is my home, and you're all here. And I'm not going to leave here ever, ever again, because I love you all."

Minerva began to cry and pulled out a handkerchief.

Snape just frowned, but then smiled wickedly. _"That's right, Auntie M, there's no place like Hogwarts."_

THE END


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